


Flowers for a Ghost

by rosesandthorons



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, GD route spoilers, M/M, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, The Golden Deer are Spies, caspar is a personal trainer, gatekeeper is the best computer friend, lorenz is the resident trust fund baby, welcome to my rarepair ted talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-10-25 11:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20723621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandthorons/pseuds/rosesandthorons
Summary: “You know, I can help you take your fate back into your own hands.” Claude’s voice is low and soft. He doesn’t quite process what he is saying. It is almost as if someone else is speaking with his voice. He continues anyway. “I am working towards a future where the people of Fódlan don’t obsess over social status and heritage. Where everyone is equal.” He holds the other man’s gaze and says huskily, “join me.”





	1. Prologue- Last Dance

**Author's Note:**

> so this story is ~loosely~ based off of this [twitter post ](https://twitter.com/pumpkinperyton/status/1169506855917252608?s=20) by the super talented @pumpkinperyton and the title comes from the song Flowers for a Ghost by Thriving Ivory

####  **9th day of the Pegasus Moon, 2080 // Garreg Mach Monastery // 22:14:34**

Garreg Mach Monastery lies nestled within the center of a bustling city, its ancient architecture defying the passage of time. Towering skyscrapers act like sentries to the ancient grounds and protect the worshippers within the monastery from the bitter, snow-laced winds of the Pegasus Moon. Right now the grounds are quiet, save for the blaring of car horns and sirens echoing in the distance. 

Somewhere within the monastery, a man clad in black jumps gracefully from a ceiling rafter.

“Coast is clear, Teach. Demon is in the Mausoleum now securing the goods. Cover her.”

The man grunts quietly in affirmation to the boyish voice coming from his earpiece and swiftly weaves through the pews in the cathedral. Moonlight shines through the stained-glass windows, painting the room in soft hues of red and purple. The man finds himself in a narrow passageway, staring at a large golden door. He presses himself into the shadows and waits, listening for any unwanted company. Soft footsteps come from behind the door and then a figure emerges. The man can see a victorious smirk on the woman’s face through the dim moonlight as she holds something closely to her chest. He moves to close the door, careful not to coax any groans from the ancient structure.

The agile pair makes their way out of the narrow passageway and back into the main room. As they stand in front of the statue of the goddess, a panicked voice blares in their headsets.

“Someone’s coming from the main entrance. Get out of there, now!”

The man looks at his companion and then to the rafters above them. They exchange a small nod of understanding before he pulls a hookshot from his belt. He securely grabs the woman by her waist and expertly fires the device at the rafters. He uses their momentum to propel them towards the eastern exit of the cathedral and hopes that the shadows keep them concealed.

A blonde-haired woman with an intense aura emerges from the main entrance, flashlight in hand. She scans the area with a stern look on her face. Her free hand drifts to the taser on her belt, itching to deliver justice to evildoers. Once satisfied, she pulls out a walkie-talkie. “All is clear here, Seteth. I’ll do another sweep of the area, but I don’t see any signs of intruders.” 

The black-clad pair makes their way out of the eastern exit with their treasure and continue to glide through the shadows.

The boy speaking through the headpiece sighs. “That was close, you two. Your chariot will be arriving shortly. Make your way to the reception hall and Chef will meet you there.” The two thieves continue to navigate through the monastery grounds, the only indication of their presence being the glint of teal from their hair catching the moonlight. They are in the courtyard directly outside the reception hall when they hear two voices speaking softly behind a wall of shrubs.

“We can’t afford to wait any longer. We need to start putting the plan into motion and acquire the crest stones before it is too late.”

“We still need more time to prepare. Don’t you recall how Kronya’s hasty decisions attracted some unwanted attention?”

“But we took care of him. Jeralt was the biggest threat to our plan anyway, so I don’t see why--.”

Upon hearing the name spoken by the mysterious people behind the bush, the two thieves froze, jaws agape.

“--we need to worry so much about the church finding out who we really are.”

An exasperated groan comes from their headpieces and breaks them out of their shared stupor. “Come on you two! Now isn’t the time for a leisurely stroll. Get out before they notice you!”

The pair makes their way to the exit past the reception hall, where a nondescript delivery truck waits for them with a jovial blond-haired man in the driver’s seat. “Took ya long enough! I had snacks waiting for you two, but I got hungry and ate them while I was waiting. Sorry ‘bout that.” Their driver flashes a sheepish smile as the two individuals discreetly enter the vehicle. The teal-haired man frowns, “I suppose I can forgive you, Chef-- but only if you stop at McDonald’s on the way back.” The driver slaps the steering wheel in excitement, “You read my mind, Teach! You’re gonna have to pay, though. I don’t have any money on me.”

“Hey, hey, hey. No unplanned stops! Stick to the plan and get back here. Then you can eat whatever you want.”

They pull out of the monastery and into the city streets as the exasperated teenager’s voice blares in their headsets. The teal-haired woman taps her chin thoughtfully with a gloved finger. “Sherlock is right. We can get food later.”

As they weave through the streets in comfortable silence, the two thieves finally take a moment to appreciate their treasure. The woman cradles the deep purple stone in her hands and holds it out for her companion to observe. Etched in the middle of the smooth stone is the unmistakable design of the Crest of Flames, the ultimate symbol of the authority of the Church of Seiros. 

A teenaged boy sits behind a wall of computer screens and sighs with relief. He takes off his headset and throws it onto his desk, scattering various crumpled papers in the process. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair as his emerald eyes follow the GPS tracker on his screen. “They really did it,” he breathes with a grin.

####  **7th day of the Horsebow Moon, 2080 // ??? // 13:45:04**

> \--GROUP MMS--
> 
> [Byleth] Sorry Claude, we have to do this. Please don’t try to look for us. This is something we need to do on our own.  

> 
> [Bylad] Take care of the others for us. Goodbye.  


Claude stares at the messages on his phone, his brow furrowed. In the background, a television drones on, lulling the teen’s mind as he tightens his grip on his phone.

“--now for this evening’s story. House Gautier, one of the few renowned political forces remaining in the north since the Blaiddyd tragedy four years ago, have disinherited their first-born son, Miklan. Political experts speculate how the Church of Seiros will respond to House Gautier’s legitimacy as a representative of the Goddess’ will moving forward--”

His fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone, struggling to find the words he wants to say. He finally decides on something.

> [Claude] you always have a home here, my friends. we’ll be waiting for you two to return

A shaky breath escapes from his lips as he presses send. 

> [Message not delivered. Recipient number -Byleth- does not exist.]
> 
> [Message not delivered. Recipient number -Bylad- does not exist.]  


When he sees the error messages, Claude’s eyes darken. He has always prided himself on his ability to keep his emotions in check-- to maintain his carefree facade. Now, he can't find the energy to do that. Cursing under his breath, he hurls his phone across the room, where it hits the wall with a loud thud. A short, white-haired girl clicks her tongue in the doorway as the phone tumbles to the ground. She directs a judgemental gaze towards Claude from across the room, making his skin crawl with guilt. “Real mature, Claude. There are better ways to vent your frustration than destroying the place, you know.”

She saunters into the dimly-lit room and stands in front of the slouched figure on the couch. Despite the intensity of his companion’s gaze, Claude visibly relaxes- at least externally. It was careless of him to lash out like that where someone could see him. Now he needs to salvage his dignity. He flashes a cheeky smile and stretches his arms behind his neck before responding. “You know, Lysithea, you should feel honored that you were the first to witness my new stealth technique. I’m just working out some kinks with it, but it should be functional. Eventually.”

Lysithea places her hands on her hips-- an attempt to make herself look more intimidating-- and rolls her eyes at Claude’s pathetic excuse. Did he really think she was that stupid? “You may be able to fool the others, but you can’t fool me. Byleth and Bylad may be gone, but the rest of us are still here. We can still see this mission through, but it’s not going to happen if our leader keeps moping.”

Moping? He wasn’t _moping_. Claude was just understandably _frustrated_. He was prepared for unexpected variables to crop up throughout his grand scheme, but he never imagined that the two people he trusted the most--the people who taught him and his team everything they knew-- would suddenly vanish after a critical point in their mission. His team has the Crest of Flames, so getting the other crest stones should have been simple. Now, there are too many unanswered questions for Claude’s liking. Who were those people in the courtyard and why were they talking about crest stones? Why were the twins so shocked by what they said that they decided to disappear without an explanation? Claude absently twirls the small braid framing his right cheek with his fingers as these uncertainties clutter his mind. “I just have a lot to think about. We may have some unwanted company moving forward, so we’re going to have to be more careful.” He thanks the goddess that he was able to respond without his voice cracking.

Lysithea’s gaze softens slightly. “You’re referring to those people who were in the monastery courtyard, correct? If there really is another party that is after the crest stones, then it would be wise for us to remain inconspicuous for the time being. The Church of Seiros is bound to find out eventually that the Crest of Flames is missing, so we may be able to direct the blame to them if they leave a trail.” She pauses for a moment, thinking carefully about what she wants to say next. “I don’t expect this to be easy. I have a feeling that something bad is happening in Fódlan. All you hear on the news anymore is crime reports-” she waves her hand to the television behind her, where the news anchor was now reporting a robbery. “-and everyone is walking on eggshells because of it. There are also random groups coming from nowhere and gaining influence, like the ones who overtook my father’s business and started bullying unsuspecting parties in the Leicester Borough. I can’t help but wonder if these things might be connected somehow.”

Claude hums thoughtfully. For being so young, Lysithea was incredibly insightful. “You may be right. I’m going to have to do much more digging to find out what exactly is going on. The Golden Deer are just going to have to return to their vigilante roots in the meantime while I work my magic.”

“The church police force is useless,” Lysithea says scathingly. “I’m happy to deliver justice where it is needed.”

A mischievous grin appears on Claude’s face. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re home by curfew.”

Despite her petite stature, Claude finds that Lysithea can inflict a considerable amount of pain, as evidenced by his throbbing foot. After he recovered from the initial shock of his injury, he pouts dramatically. “That’s no way to treat your deer leader.” Lysithea scoffs at the pun and raises her leg in a threat to stomp on Claude again. He immediately tucks his feet underneath him, so he is now sitting with his legs criss-crossed on the couch. “I was being serious,” he says as he puts his hands up in defeat. “We all need to avoid raising suspicion at school. Fly under the radar until we graduate. ”

Lysithea finally relents, accepting Claude's explanation. At least they were on the same page now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading this so far! I haven't written fandom stuff since the glory days of persona 3 and 4 almost 8 years ago, so I would appreciate any feedback or suggestions! I am also new to the formatting on AO3 so let me know if anything looks bad and I'll fix it! It's gonna take me a bit to get used to everything here, so bear with me. :)
> 
> once the deer are introduced, I'll include a master list with their codenames in the notes for your reference


	2. Free fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sylvain tries to run away from his problems, claude visits an eccentric friend, and a fateful meeting occurs on the bridge of myrrdin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning here for some mental health/ suicidal thoughts discussion

####  **14th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Fhirdiad-Myrddin Commuter Train // 20:49:21**

Sylvain Jose Gautier was born into a life of privilege. His family possesses the Gautier Crest Stone and the political power and prestige that comes with it. As a crest stone-bearing family, they answer to the Church of Seiros and ensure that the Goddess's will is enforced through the land that they govern, which for him is the Gautier District in the northeastern region of the Borough of Faerghus.

However, right now Sylvain Jose Gautier would like nothing more than to forsake the titles that have haunted him his whole life. Despite being the younger child, Sylvain's parents decided to groom him for the eventual political position rather than his older brother, Miklan. Miklan was reckless, explosive, and spiteful. His parents knew early on that Miklan would never be fit for a position in politics. Sylvain, on the other hand, was the charming young boy, the people-pleaser, the golden child. As such, his parents doted on him much more than they ever did Miklan, much to the older sibling's chagrin. This treatment would then, in turn, spur Miklan to vent his frustrations on Sylvain-- be it through physical or verbal attacks. However, Miklan was smart. Smart enough to harass Sylvain when no one else was around. Smart enough to manipulate his younger brother into thinking that what he did was a normal thing that all big brothers did, so their parents would never know that Miklan was the one who abandoned him in some alley in the middle of Fhirdiad when he was 7, that it was Miklan who pushed him into oncoming traffic when he was 12.

When Miklan began to openly profess his hatred for the Church of Seiros, he was finally kicked out of the Gautier house. That was five years ago. Sylvain should be happy that his brother was gone and he didn’t have to suffer from his abuse anymore. However, Sylvain's parents have become even more overbearing toward him-- suffocating him. He needs to find a suitable wife to carry on the Gautier legacy. He needs to learn the names of all of the important political figures in Fódlan and how to suck up to them. He needs to be a dutiful worshipper of the Goddess. He needs to study etiquette and politics and commerce and foreign languages. He needs to dress nicely and speak properly and be presentable in the public at all times. He needs to--

\--to get away.

A few hours earlier, Sylvain got into a heated argument with his father. He doesn't even remember what started it this time, but fighting seems to be their norm nowadays. He's tired of it. 

He's tired of this life-- of not having any power over his future. It feels like he is submerged underwater, and no matter how hard he kicks he can't seem to make his way towards the surface. 

That is how he ended up in Fhirdiad, then on this train to Myrddin. If travelling halfway across Fódlan doesn't get rid of the overwhelming feeling of suffocating, then Sylvain doesn't know what will. 

He replays the argument in his head as he stares out the train window. He can see his father's angry face in the street signs. He can see Miklan's sneer in the storefronts. He can see his mother's disappointed frown in the trees. Before he knows it, a voice on the intercom is announcing their arrival in the Leicester Borough. Numbly, Sylvain exits the train and begins walking once again. He ends up at the Great Bridge of Myrddin- a fantastic structure that boasts the beauty and ingenuity of modern architecture. Since it is late on a weeknight, there are no other pedestrians on the bridge. The solitude only seems to amplify Sylvain's self-deprecating thoughts. After what felt like an eternity, Sylvain finally stops walking and watches the roaring water of the Airmid River crash below him. The tide was high due to the constant rain typical of the Great Tree Moon. Despite being a pedestrian path, the ledge of the bridge is surprisingly low, allowing Sylvain a better view of the scene below him.

His phone feels like a lead weight in his pocket as he gazes into the distance. He can feel it buzzing incessantly as new notifications come through. He sighs and takes it out, noting that he has 17 missed calls from his mother, 32 texts from his father, and a string of worried messages from Ingrid. 

He then steps forward, enticed by the sound of the rapid water. The crisp night air cards through his light-brown hair, further tempting him to follow the siren song of the water below him. The roaring river drowns out his father's furious timbre, the incessant buzzing coming from the device in his hand, the frustrated thoughts swirling through his mind.

He takes another step.

####  **14th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // ??? // 19:05:02**

"Hey, Claude….watcha doing?" A mischievous woman bats her doe-like pink eyes at the man who was sitting at a very, very messy table. Before his lovely guest Hilda arrived, Claude was busy scrolling through his news feed, reading the most recent story on the sudden cluster of disappearances of Crest Stones throughout Fódllan. Curiously, the Church of Seiros never made the public aware that the Crest of Flames went missing 5 years prior. However, they are openly condemning the thefts of the other stones and offering a large monetary reward to anyone with information about these incidents. 

Claude sets his phone down on a pile of papers on the table and flashes a grin at his companion. "Just catching up on some news," he says matter-of-factly. He leans back in his chair and stretches his arms above his head, his toned muscles flexing. He recognizes the sweet tone that Hilda is using right now all too well: she wants something from him. She usually cons one of their other teammates into doing her dirty work, mostly because she knows that Claude is too perceptive to fall for her subterfuge. It takes a con to know a con. Perhaps it will be worthwhile to entertain Hilda for a bit, Claude wonders lazily. 

"Oh, have you seen the recent press conferences with the Church? That Seteth can really be intimidating." Hilda frowns at the imposing image of the Archbishop’s aide that has been relentlessly aired by all of the local news outlets. “I have barely been able to go out recently because my dear brother is so worried for my safety.” She dramatically raises her dainty hand to her forehead, feigning distress. “So I haven’t been able to get what we need for the next mission.”

There it is- right on cue. Claude knows that Hilda just doesn’t feel like dealing with Lorenz, which is understandable, actually. He can be quite...overwhelming. If Claude does this errand for Hilda, he can most certainly hold it over her head in the future. This will also give him the opportunity to mess with Lorenz, which is one of his favorite pastimes. Honestly, it was a win-win for him.

Sighing theatrically, Claude grabs his phone and opens his messenger app.

> [Claude] hey, i’m coming over in a few to grab the thing  

> 
> [Lorenz] Oh joy. I thought Hilda was coming. I even prepared her favorite tea for the occasion!  

> 
> [Claude] she had something come up  

> 
> [Claude] guess you’ll just have to have tea with this hunk instead ;))))

Nothing made Claude more happy than the thought of Lorenz sputtering at his phone, indignant at Claude's teasing. After he sends the message Claude winks at Hilda, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll do it for you this time because I’m a nice guy. Don’t expect me to forget about this, though.”

Well, that was easier than she thought it would be. Hilda really didn’t expect Claude to bite that quickly. She knows all too well that Claude can't resist teasing Lorenz, but he must be really bored to have agreed that quickly. She needed to get her petty revenge on the Gloucester snob for using terrible pick up lines on her a few weeks ago, so siccing Claude on him was perfect. She smiles with relief and excitedly hugs Claude. “Thank you thank you thank you! I knew I could count on you!” Hilda is just going to pretend that she didn’t hear the last thing Claude said. She’ll just have to figure out how to weasel out of any future inconveniences that he subjects her to when the time comes. Before he has time to change his mind, Hilda scurries out of the room.

####  **14th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Upper Myrddin District // 19:38:16**

Lorenz’s apartment is immaculate and obnoxiously decorated--much like the man himself. Clusters of abstract paintings of roses and other inanimate objects adorn the walls, making Claude feel mildly uncomfortable. 

It is clear that Lorenz is exasperated by Claude’s presence (and the lack of Hilda’s presence) as he leads the other to the dining room table. “I am not particularly fond of you being in my apartment, but I am a gentleman so I must treat my guest well.” Claude didn’t actually expect Lorenz to prepare tea for him, but he was pleasantly surprised to be offered the delicious brew. 

The two exchange mostly pleasant banter for some time, before Lorenz becomes more serious. "You know, I have stuck with you for this long because I believe in a better future for Fódlan. However, if we aren’t going to finish what we started five years ago, I don’t see the point in continuing this. I have real responsibilities outside of the Golden Deer.”

Uncomfortable at where the conversation is leading, Claude decides to check the time on his phone. 8:30PM. 

He masks his discomfort with a lopsided grin. “Well, as much as I’d love to stare at your handsome face for the rest of the night, I better leave before it gets too late.” Claude grabs the small envelope that Lorenz procured earlier in their meeting and shoves it into his coat pocket. 

Lorenz sighs and runs a hand through his long lavender hair. “Typical of you to weasel your way out of a serious conversation. Think about what I said.”

With that, Claude leaves the Museum de Lorenz and wanders the posh neighborhood. Even though it is still early spring, the night air was crisp but comforting. The trees have started to bloom, adding a sweet floral note to the atmosphere. Claude really needed to clear his head after that unexpected conversation. Lorenz made it seem like Claude had given up on his dream-- like he had given up on the Golden Deer. He was just embarrassed to admit that he couldn't figure out how to deal with the sudden loss of the Eisner twins and the appearance of these mysterious thieves. No matter how hard he dug, he couldn't find any information about who these mysterious people were...

In an attempt to purge his mind of the unpleasant thoughts Lorenz left him with, Claude began to focus intently on his surroundings. In the distance, he could hear the constant gurgling of the Airmid River. He decided to follow it, which eventually took him to a large bridge. Huh. He has read about the Great Bridge of Myrddin, but this was the first time he was actually seeing it for himself. He really does spend too much time behind a computer screen.

Intrigued, Claude follows the pedestrian path on the bridge, humming idly. He is surprised that there doesn't seem to be anyone else out tonight. This really was the perfect view. Peaceful. 

He takes a few more steps forward and then notices a silhouette a few feet ahead, standing uncomfortably close to the ledge of the bridge. Claude continues toward the figure, fearful of what this stranger may be about to do. The soft light emanating from the bridge's arches above reveals the figure to be a man about Claude’s age. His clothes are casual, but definitely look expensive. (Not surprising, given the fact that Myrddin is a rich district.) His light brown hair is carefully groomed, but the persistent breeze blows wisps of his bangs out of place. Now that Claude has a better look at the man’s face, he can see that he is clearly very handsome. Very handsome and very brooding, it seems. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something about this man seemed familiar. The man did not show any indication of moving closer to the edge of the bridge, so Claude decides to deploy his irresistible von Riegan charm.

“It seems like fate has brought us both here tonight.” As Claude delivers his lines-- smoothly as always-- he sidles up to the other man. “Gold for your thoughts?”

Sylvain was so entranced by his own wallowing that he didn’t even realize that someone had approached him. Almost immediately, he flashes his signature Gautier smile. Any trace of distress that was visible on his face earlier was now gone; he mastered this maneuver a long time ago. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize I had company." Sylvain faces the man standing beside him and studies his features idly. His wavy chocolate-brown hair gets tousled by the wind, revealing an intricate golden piercing on his left ear. He also realizes that there are fine lines shaved into the tail of his eyebrows. That’s an interesting fashion choice, he supposes. His focus then shifts to the man’s verdant eyes. Even in the dim light, Sylvain can see the earnestness in them. Oddly, he feels like he can trust this stranger. “Fate, huh?” He chuckles wryly. “I was just thinking about how stupid fate is. Society has these roles pre-determined for us. We get no say in what we can do or who we can be. It’s suffocating. I just want to run away from it all.”

As if on cue, his phone buzzes once again- this time a call from his father. He scowls as he rejects the call. 

“You know, I can help you take your fate back into your own hands.” Claude’s voice is low and soft. He doesn’t quite process what he is saying. It is almost as if someone else is speaking with his voice. He continues anyway. “I am working towards a future where the people of Fódlan don’t obsess over social status and heritage. Where everyone is equal.” He holds the other man’s gaze and says huskily, “join me.”

Sylvain blinks once. Twice. This situation doesn’t seem real, yet...he feels hopeful hearing this man’s words. Sylvain resents the way the Church of Seiros controls society with an outdated social hierarchy centered around who does or does not have a crest stone. It never crossed his mind that he could have an active role in eliminating these toxic ideals.

Joining this random stranger is better than any other alternatives Sylvain could think of for himself-- one of them roaring loudly directly below them. Besides, who is he to turn down an invitation from such a good-looking person?

“Okay.”

A dazzling smile appears on the Claude’s face upon hearing the man’s response. With that one word, a plan finally began to brew in his head. This new addition to the Golden Deer could be just what they needed to get back on track. Lorenz could shove it. “Follow me and I’ll explain everything to you.” He hooks his arm with the taller man’s and starts walking. “My name’s Claude, by the way.”

Sylvain allows himself to be led by Claude, his mind still trying to catch up to what was happening. He really was about to run away from his life into something completely unknown. He felt giddy. 

“I’m Sylvain.” He leans closer to Claude and speaks into his ear, his voice playful. “Usually, I only agree to go back to my date’s place _after_ we get dinner. Consider yourself lucky.”

####  ** 14th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085// ??? // 21:41:25**

The pair ended up in Derdriu, the capital city in the Leicester Borough. Despite it being nighttime, the city was buzzing with activity. Claude takes them to a quiet alley, where a they stop at the back entrance of a nondescript building. Thy mysterious man pulls out a key and opens the door, revealing a dimly-lit stairwell that leads downward. “Here we are.”

Claude and Sylvain descend the stairs and end up at a mechanical door with a high-tech touch screen panel built in to it. The screen is prompting him for a passcode. With a smirk, Claude whispers "fear the deer" and the door clicks open.

When they enter, a cheerful robotic voice speaks, causing Sylvain to jump with surprise. "Greetings, Sherlock! Nothing to report. Let me know if you want me to recap today's top news stories."

"That's okay, Gatekeeper," Claude says in an amused tone. He ushers Sylvain into a room further within this strange place. "That was our AI security system, Gatekeeper. I wrote the code for him myself. He's a real sweetheart." 

The room they entered has a large table with various papers scattered around it. Claude clears a space on the table and gestures for Sylvain to sit in one of the chairs. "This is the secret base for the Golden Deer. All of the magic happens here.” Claude angles himself towards Sylvain and rests his chin on his hand. “Basically, we’re a group of spies who specialize in foiling the plans of any unsavory folk in Fódlan. I am the mastermind that works out all of the kinks behind the scenes while the other deer go out and do their thing. I can answer all of your questions about our group as long as we are within these walls."

Sylvain studies his surroundings. There is a large bulletin board on one wall with papers neatly pinned to it. A cat meme dangles crookedly at the bottom of the board. A large flat-screen TV is mounted to another wall, surrounded by various landscape paintings. Oddly enough, this place feels homey. Claude had mentioned earlier that the Golden Deer wanted a future where social status was not important. In other words, a future where crest stones didn’t dictate one’s role in society. Sylvain idly taps his fingers on the desk. “Are you the ones stealing the crest stones?”

Upon hearing the question, Claude sighs. “Yes...and no. We have _a_ crest stone, but the disappearances that you are hearing on the news? That’s not us. We’ve been trying to figure out who they are for the past five years.” He then playfully punches Sylvain in the arm. “Maybe things will change now that we have a handsome new addition to our team.”

Sylvain would be lying if he said he didn't like the attention he was getting from Claude. His father would never be able to accept a son that liked both men and women romantically, so Sylvain always kept that part of himself under wraps. It felt liberating to talk to Claude like this--without any pretenses. He figured out a long time ago that he abhorred the stuffy women who clung to him just for the prestige of his title. To be able to share flirtatious banter with someone who didn't know or care about his wealth felt...nice. However, Sylvain knows he is going to need to discuss his true identity with Claude if he was going to join his team. "I have to say, you have very good taste." He winks at the other and then steels himself for what he is going to say next. "And, well, since you're being so open with me, I should probably do the same." His expression becomes more serious. "I never told you my last name...who I am."

Claude picks up on Sylvain's sudden mood change. The expression on Sylvain's face is similar to the one he had when he was on the bridge. 

Sylvain continues. "Yours truly is the heir apparent to the Gautier Crest Stone. I've been groomed to oversee the fulfillment of the Goddess's will in the second-largest district in the Borough of Faerghus since I was in diapers." He holds Claude's gaze, his hazel eyes burning with resolve. "The things my parents have done to please the church are questionable at best. I have seen too many people suffer because of the influence of the church and their stupid crest stones. I don't want any part of it."

Claude leans back in his chair and runs his fingers over the stubble on his jawline pensively. So that explains why Sylvain's face seemed familiar. Claude has definitely seen his face through his crest stone-related investigations. "This will be tricky to get you out of…but I think I may have an idea. You are absolutely sure you are prepared to leave behind everything?" He felt silly for asking this, but he thought it necessary. The air between the two was electrified.

"I am."

With that affirmation, Claude stands up and directs his voice to the TV. "Hey Gatekeeper, unlock the medicine cabinet for me." He looks expectantly at Sylvain and gestures for him to follow. They exit the room and walk down a hallway until they reach a large black safe nestled at the end. Gatekeeper's voice reverberates down the hall. "The medicine cabinet is now unlocked. Be careful with that stuff!"

"I have dabbled in ancient Almyran medicinal techniques over the years and learned quite a few tricks. Y'know- mild poisons, tranquilizers, that sorta thing." Claude rifles through the safe until he finds the bottle he wants. A skull and crossbones is crudely drawn on the side. "In this bottle is your ticket out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your support! I appreciate any feedback :)


	3. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sylvain dies, claude orchestrates a pizza party meet-and-greet, and joeseph neumann is born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! you better buckle up because this chapter has a lot of world development. also from now on, I will include a legend of everyone's codenames in the endnotes

####  **15th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Gautier Manor // 03:42:09**

Sylvain is sitting on his bed, studying the light-pink pill in his hand. His parents had given up on trying to contact him and went to sleep for the night, allowing Sylvain to sneak back into his house undetected. Tonight felt like a dream, but this pill is proof that Claude is real. The Golden Deer are real.

Part of Sylvain is scared to take this mysterious pill. Claude explained that it would put him into a "death-like slumber," making his breathing and heart rates undetectable until the antidote is administered. He reassured the very skeptical Sylvain that he would, in fact, still be breathing and that there would be no lasting effects from the drug. At his funeral, Claude was going to sneak in and steal him away before he is interred. The irony of this entire situation was not lost on Sylvain. Mere hours before, he was flirting with death without any reservation. Now, he is fearful of losing his life, his freedom, his future. 

He takes one last glance at the carefully placed farewell note and empty pill bottle on his nightstand before gulping the tablet. He blanches at the bitter taste, screws his eyes shut, and then tries to focus on his breathing.

Once he wakes up, he will begin his new life. He won’t have to answer to his parent’s impossible expectations any longer. The final thing he thought of before he lost consciousness was Claude’s easygoing smile.

####  **16th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Holy Mother Sothis Funeral Home // 11:34:59 **

As Sylvain would have expected, his parents were mortified by his undignified passing and immediately began funeral arrangements, foregoing any sort of autopsy. No one could know the truth, so they told the news outlets that Sylvain suffered from a serious medical condition that suddenly worsened. The extravagant funeral was held in Fhirdiad and all of the elites of the Borough of Faerghus were in attendance. The now-heirless Gautier parents mourn their loss of political influence and favor with the church more than the loss of their child. Without someone to carry on the Gautier name, they must relinquish their crest stone to the church when they grow feeble and unfit to govern. The church will then redraw the governing boundaries so that the other crest stone-bearing powers in Faerghus absorb their land and assets, effectively erasing the thousand-year Gautier legacy from history. Asking Miklan to return was out of the question, since his whereabouts were unknown since being disinherited.

The highborn of Faerghus were stunned that their borough was losing the influence of another crest stone-bearing family; the wounds of the Blaiddyd tragedy were still fresh for everyone, despite almost a decade passing since the horrific accident that completely wiped out the highest-ranking noble family in Faerghus. Once the Gautier Crest Stone is relinquished to the church, the Leicester and Adrestian Boroughs will have considerably more political leverage than Faerghus, making trade and policymaking much more difficult. This realization hung heavily in the air as mourners paid their respects to the dead.

Sylvain felt cold. He couldn’t move his body. He couldn’t see anything. Yet somehow, he felt at peace. It felt like he was lazily floating down the Rhodos Coast. He begins to hear hushed voices buzzing around him, slightly rousing him from his oblivion.

A clenched hand hits the oak casket that Sylvain is nestled in with enough force to shake the surrounding floral arrangements. If he could move, he would’ve flinched. He hears a few expletives being muttered, then the voice speaks louder. "You insufferable-- you..."

That voice...Why was it so familiar?

“You broke our promise.”

“That is enough, Felix. You're causing a scene.”

While the two voices bickered, Sylvain’s mind conjured the image of him and his lifelong best friend linking their pinkies to solidify their pact to not die without the other. That was the same day that Miklan pushed him into traffic and he was nearly flattened by a bus. When Felix had found out what happened, he was nearly inconsolable. He wanted to scream at young Felix that he didn’t break his promise, that he was right here and he was okay, but nothing came out. The image of the small and innocent Felix then morphed into the bitter, closed-off adult that he knew. This Felix was snarling at him and flinging insults. He deserved them. Lazy, irresponsible, reckless, _fake_. 

That’s right. The last time they spoke to each other they had fought-- he got into an _actual fight_ with Felix-- and they hadn’t reconciled since.

Sylvain fell back into nothingness.

####  **16th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Daphnel Freeway // 14:15:32**

Even though it has been over an hour since he has woken up, Sylvain still feels groggy and nauseous. He doesn’t remember anything since taking Claude’s nasty death-pill, but he is thrilled that the plan actually worked. He's currently lying down in the back of a truck being handed a bottle of water by lovely blue-haired lady, who he quickly realized is a literal angel.  
Unfortunately, all of his attempts to flirt with her so far have been unsuccessful, mostly because his words just go right over her head. It probably doesn't help that he is slurring his words and trying not to puke every time they hit a bump. He also doesn't know her name, which is a vital piece of information needed for effective flirting. She just said to call her "Doc." They hit a particularly large bump and Sylvain wretches loudly.

While Sylvain suffers in the back, Claude is sitting in the passenger seat of the truck, still dressed in his undertaker outfit. When the mourners left the funeral home to meet at Sylvain’s final resting place, Claude the Undertaker took his cue to wake up his sleeping beauty and shove him into the back of their getaway truck. Their driver, Raphael, then expertly maneuvered them away from the funeral home without anyone noticing. Now, a sack of potatoes is in an ornate oak casket, en-route to Garreg Mach Cemetery to be ceremonially buried in Sylvain Jose Gautier’s tomb. Honestly, Claude is quite impressed that they were able to execute this plan so smoothly on such a short notice. His chest swells with pride at the cohesiveness of his team. "Another job well done, Chef," he says to his companion. "You are truly the king of stealth."

Raphael--Chef-- lets out a hearty chuckle. "It's nothin', Sherlock. All in a day's work. I just can't wait for our welcome feast.” He pauses for a moment. “We're gonna have one, right?"

Claude pulls out his phone and opens their (heavily encrypted) group chat, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I am never one to turn down an opportunity to feast, my friend."

> 🏅The Squad 🦌
> 
> [Sherlock] hello my lovelies  
[Sherlock] we're about 20 minutes away so get ready to give our new friend a warm welcome  
[Sherlock] also  
[Sherlock] you still good to get the pizza picasso??
> 
> [Picasso] Oh boy, that's exciting! I'm glad to hear that everything went well. I am going to pick up the food now! 8-)
> 
> [Cupid] picasso, our hero…!! 💕
> 
> [Sherlock] hey, this is coming out of my pocket so you should be thanking me ;)
> 
> [Prodigy] I'm not sure if I'm ready to meet whoever was stupid enough to agree to take one of your questionable concoctions. 
> 
> [Magnifico] I am going to have to agree with that sentiment.
> 
> [Sherlock] you wound me 😭
> 
> [Doc] Sorry, but he is pretty nauseous right now.. I don't think he reacted well to the antidote. maybe next time you should put some ginger extract in it  
[Doc] but that's just a suggestion. Sorry if that was rude
> 
> [Cupid] shh you are not rude at all Doc. our leader just needs to accept his defeat :)
> 
> [Shortie] hahahaha sucks to suck  


Claude decides that is enough and locks his phone. "Picasso's getting the pizza now," he says to Raphael, who nods excitedly in return. Claude then fiddles with the radio until he finds a station he likes and looks out the window. As the upbeat pop music plays, his mind tries to concoct a plan that may lead them to the mysterious crest stone thieves.

####  **16th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 14:48:52**

By the time they reach the Golden Deer hideout, Sylvain is feeling marginally better. The blue-haired angel hands him a warm cup of ginger tea when he takes a seat. They are in the cozy room that he and Claude sat in a few days prior, he quickly realizes. An eclectic group of people all around the same age sit at the roundtable, observing Sylvain with varying degrees of excitement. He takes a sip of the medicinal tea and winks at the lovely lady.

A few beautiful women catch Sylvain’s eye immediately, almost making him forget the fact that just a few hours ago he was basically dead. A few of these faces also seem vaguely familiar to him. Were some of these people also heirs to crest stones? Before he could say anything, Gatekeeper’s cheerful voice pipes up. “I have a report! Picasso has just arrived with a lot of food. Someone should probably help him.”

The hulking man that drove them back to the base ran out of the door at an impressively fast speed. Within seconds, he was walking back into the room with several trays of pizza. A smaller man with round glasses followed, carrying a box of cookies. As soon as they set the food down, everyone takes their fill. Despite his earlier stomach issues, Sylvain also could not resist the tantalizing call of the cheese pizza. 

Claude, who is seated right next to Sylvain, pats his shoulder with his non-greasy hand. "Well now that everyone's here, why don't we all introduce ourselves? We can start with the man of the hour, then make our way around the table." He flashes a smile at Sylvain, encouraging the other to speak.

The former Gautier heir sets down his food and greets his new colleagues with his signature charm. "My name is Sylvain Gautier. I'm a Gemini, my favorite color is red, and I enjoy long romantic walks on the beach." As he finishes, he makes eye contact with a stylish pink-haired girl across the table and winks. She giggles into her hand.

The blue-haired angel who was sitting on the other side of Sylvain then gets ready to speak. "Oh, um, my name's Marianne. On missions, I go by Doc. I studied medicine, so if you ever get hurt I will do my best to heal you."

Next to Marianne, a haughty-looking man scrutinizes Sylvain. "I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester- esteemed heir to the Gloucester Crest Stone. On missions, call me Magnifico." He huffs and flips his long hair behind his shoulder. "I believe we may have met before at a gala of some sort; I would not forget a shameless flirt such as you so easily." 

Before Sylvain could make a witty comeback to Lorenz, a petite girl with a piercing gaze clears her throat dramatically. "Lysithea von Ordelia. My codename is Prodigy because I can do just about anything. I go to university, so I’m very busy. Waste my time and you will pay for it dearly. Your turn, Raph.”

"Heya, I'm Raphael Kirsten. My ma and pa own a big warehouse here in Leicester. That's how we got the delivery truck." He takes a large bite of pizza and then continues. "Oh, and my codename is Chef."

Next to Raphael, a kind-looking man adjusts his large glasses. "I’m Ignatz Victor. My parents also own a prominent business in Leicester. I went to art school, so that’s how I got the codename Picasso. I hope one day I can truly live up to that name. I help Hilda with making disguises and other things we may need for our missions."

The beautiful pink-haired girl then begins to speak. "I’m the Golden Deer’s resident fashion expert Hilda, but behind the scenes you can call me Cupid. You've definitely heard of my brother, Holst Goneril. He's the heir to the Goneril Crest Stone and a very well respected politician. Oh, and he is very protective of his sweet younger sister- especially when it comes to philanderers.” As she finishes her sentence, she smiles sweetly at Sylvain, who suddenly feels nauseous again.

"My turn! I'm Caspar von Bergliez, the ultimate crime fighter in all of Fódlan. All the bad guys know not to mess with me, or they’ll get my fists in their face. I grew up in Adrestia Borough, but now Claude and I have an apartment here in Derdriu. You’re our new roomie now!"

Hilda smirks at Caspar and rests a dainty hand on his forearm. “Caspar, dear, you forgot to mention your codename." The fiery man sitting next to her seems to deflate a bit and mumbles his response. “I...lost a bet. To Hilda. A long time ago. So my codename is Shortie, but I'm not short!” 

Claude snickers and winks at Caspar. “He has grown up quite a bit since, but in high school Caspar was a bit...vertically challenged. He also didn’t pick his fights very well.” He then pivots in his chair so that he is now fully facing Sylvain.

"And in case you forgot, I'm Claude. Claude von Riegan."

At some point, Claude had undone the first few buttons on his dress shirt. Sylvain's eyes shamelessly traced the path from Claude's jawline down to his partially exposed chest, admiring the rich tones of his tan skin. He was barely even registering the words that the other was saying.

"I'm the fearless and handsome leader of the Golden Deer. My codename, if you haven’t deduced it already, is Sherlock."

Claude notices where Sylvain’s gaze is directed and decides to indulge the other a bit more by flexing his arms behind head, exposing more of his skin in the process. He then continues, satisfied with the devilish grin that appears on Sylvain’s face when he realizes that Claude caught him. “Most of us met in high school. We all went to Indech Prep in the Varley district right outside of Garreg Mach. We created the Golden Deer to help bring change to Fódlan.”

That makes sense. Sylvain could tell that this group is very tight-knit. He wasn’t expecting other nobles to be involved, but it makes him feel better that there are other highborn people who see how wrong the archaic ways of Fódlan are. “So...what are you guys going to do when you get all of the crest stones? Are you going to make a ransom note or something until the corrupt leaders promise to change?”

Claude’s eyes twinkle. “So you’ve never heard of it, huh?” Sylvain tilts his head in bewilderment as Claude continues. “There is a long-lost legend that says that beneath Garreg Mach Monastery there is a great door. Beyond that door is something so magnificent that it has the power to grant the holder whatever wish they desire. My research has led me to conclude that the keys to this mysterious door are the crest stones. The very stones that the Church of Seiros entrusted to various elites across Fódlan one thousand years ago as a ‘symbol of the will and protection of the Goddess.’ That, my friend, is just a clever way for them to downplay the stones’ true purpose and to keep them away from the door.” 

Claude pauses and takes a sip of his soda, allowing Sylvain to digest everything he just said. Sylvain honestly isn’t quite sure to think of this. Magical things like this just don’t exist; they were things of fairy tales and nothing more. Now they were going to say that people can start shooting lightning bolts from their fingers or something! “So you’re saying... that the church has been hiding some sort of magic thing from us all?” Skepticism oozes from Sylvain’s voice.  


Lysithea chimes in, folding her arms across her chest. “Apparently the Church of Seiros has been censoring common knowledge for a long time. I found it hard to believe at first too, but all of our research suggests this information to be accurate.”

Claude nods in agreement, thankful for Lysithea’s input. “If we can get our hands on that power, we can right the wrongs of Fódlan and bring a new world of peace with no one else the wiser. That is also why these other crest stone thieves are concerning. We don’t know what they would do with this power, but my guess is that it is probably not good.”

With an encouraging nod from Claude, Ignatz speaks up. “Right now, we know for sure that they have the stones of Dominic, Lamine, and Charon. There's also the mystery of the whereabouts of the Blaiddyd Crest Stone.”

Sylvain _just barely_ stiffens at the mention of his lost childhood friend, Dimitri. Ever perceptive, Claude notices Sylvain’s reaction and rests his warm hand comfortingly on the other’s forearm. “You must have been close with the son, huh? I’m sorry to bring up bad memories, but you’re gonna want to hear this.” Claude lightly squeezes Sylvain’s arm and then continues. “It is very possible that this other party may have orchestrated that tragedy so they could acquire the Blaiddyd Crest Stone. I painstakingly analyzed the blueprints for the Faerghus-Duscur Embassy and couldn't find anything that would suggest structural instability in the gas pipelines--or anything else, for that matter. It was physically impossible for that brand new building to...collapse the way that it did."

‘Collapse’ was an understatement. Within an instant, the entire building was reduced to rubble by an explosion from what was believed to be a major gas leak. The entire Blaiddyd family was at the embassy for a special cultural event with high-ranking representatives from Duscur. The explosion was so powerful that bodies could not even be recovered- let alone the crest stone, which was also showcased in the event. The Church of Seiros held a weeklong service in mourning for those who were lost and then redistributed the Blaiddyd assets amongst the other nobles in Faerghus. The Gautier and Fraldarius families absorbed the majority of these responsibilities. That meant that Sylvain and Felix’s older brother (and heir to the Fraldarius Crest Stone) Glenn were immediately thrown into handling the extra political duties. Glenn handled his position with grace, going above and beyond everyone’s expectations for such a young man. Sylvain just did what was expected of him, nothing more and nothing less. As time passed, he became more apathetic towards his duties-- the duties that were supposed to be Dimitri’s...and Miklan's. 

The sudden loss of Dimitri that day also drastically changed the dynamic between Sylvain and his other childhood friends, Felix and Ingrid. Dimitri was like the sun; he drew the others towards him with his kind smile and selfless constitution. Without their sun, the other Faerghus kids began to wither. Sweet Felix became cold, distant, and abrasive. He took Dimitri's death the hardest out of all of them, turning into a completely different person. Brave Ingrid became became cautious, critical, and overprotective. She tried her best to take over the caring, observant role that Dimitri had so effortlessly assumed, but it just wasn’t the same. As for Sylvain, he continued to live behind his happy mask, pretending that he didn’t know about all of the terrible things that were happening around him. However, once Miklan was disinherited, it became a lot harder for Sylvain to maintain his carefree appearance. All of the contempt that festered within slowly oozed out of him like sludge. He became more indifferent towards himself and acted more recklessly. He lashed out at his father, he taunted Felix, he pushed away Ingrid…

They were all living this terrible lie, pretending that everything was okay. That there was nothing questionable about the accident. Deep down Sylvain knew better, but he could never say so.

The former Gautier ponders what Claude says and finally speaks. “I always had a feeling that something wasn’t right about that day.” His demeanor is more relaxed now, accepting Claude’s confirmation of his own suspicions, which had remained unvoiced for all these years. It feels as if a weight has been lifted from his chest, speaking about this now. "We need to find out the truth, for Dimitri's sake."

The rest of the Golden Deer solemnly nod in approval.

Even though he’d love to keep his hands on Sylvain, Claude removes his hand from the other’s arm before it becomes sweaty and awkward. He then chooses to rest his hands on the table, intertwining his fingers. “There’s one more important bit of information you should probably know. The crest stone that we have is the Crest of Flames. We stole it five years ago,” He frowns and the atmosphere in the room becomes a bit heavier, “with the help of our mentors. They’ve since disappeared.”

While the others shifted uncomfortably in their chairs at the mention of their lost comrades, Lorenz spoke up. “The church has never publicly announced its disappearance because they want to save face. However, we believe that the loss of their major crest is why they are offering such a large reward to whoever catches the crest thieves. We are going to have to be _very careful_ moving forward that we do not expose our identities. I cannot emphasize enough that this is not a game.”

Hilda’s sing-song voice suddenly interjects, causing everyone to look at her. “Speaking of identities, we have to give you a new one! I have so many great ideas for your new look.” If there was one thing that Hilda was passionate about, it was makeovers. Her cheerful demeanor seemed to lift the intense atmosphere from their earlier conversation topics. The others nod contemplatively, trying to think of how they could help reassimilate Sylvain into society.

Claude leans forward and speaks matter-of-factly. “Depending on the mission, we create aliases and disguises for ourselves. However, you can’t just go waltzing around as a dead man outside of missions, so we’re going to have to help you completely change your identity. Since I’m a nice guy, I’ll at least let you pick your new name. For everything else, you’re at Hilda’s mercy.”

A new name, huh? After sitting in thoughtful silence for a few moments, Sylvain spoke up. “I have a good one: Joseph Neumann.” He was a bit scared of what Hilda had in store for him, but it couldn’t be _that_ bad. After all, he’s going to be doted on by a beautiful lady. He winks at her playfully, but he very much means what he says next. “Don’t be too cruel to me, Hilda.”

“Great! I’m just going to need to run a few errands before I can do your transformation. You can just stick around here and keep making googly eyes at Claude in the meantime, casanova.” Hilda flashes a knowing look at Claude, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Casanova, huh? You know, that should be his codename.” Claude couldn’t even be mad that Hilda called out their little antics in front of everyone, because that name was better than the ones that he had in mind. He was already planning on capitalizing on Sylvain’s good looks and silver tongue in future missions, so this name is very fitting for that role.

Timid Marianne also nods in agreement, to everyone’s shock. “He...um, did try to flirt with me in the truck in between his bouts of nausea. A lot, actually. I’d say it’s fitting.”

The group bursts into laughter at the image of poor Sylvain trying to flirt with Marianne, while said man turns red with embarrassment. “What man in their right mind wouldn’t try to woo the angel who cared for them after being pulled from the grave?”

####  **16th day of the Great Tree Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 20:26:02**

Once Hilda left to get her supplies, the rest of the Golden Deer slowly started to trickle out. Ignatz promised that he would be back in the morning to assist with making Sylvain's new ID, and Raphael was going to tag along with some breakfast for everyone.

Caspar and Claude stuck around, but they holed themselves up in a different room within the hideout when Hilda returned. Armed with various grooming supplies and a stylish pair of clothes for the man to change into, she ushered Sylvain into the meeting room and began to work her magic.

“Ta-da! Let me know what you think of your new look, _Mr. Neumann_.” With an extremely satisfied grin, Hilda hands Sylvain a mirror. The man he sees looking back at him looks completely different. His sandy brown hair is now a vibrant orange-ish red, which accentuates his light olive skin very well. His hair now has wispy layers in it, the longer ones framing his face nicely in a stylish side part. Hilda also gifted him a pair of colored contacts-- another warm tone to accentuate his fiery red hair. His hazel eyes are now a soft caramel brown, giving him a more trustworthy and nurturing aura. Awestruck, he runs his free hand through his hair, tousling the bright locks.

While Sylvain is ogling himself in the mirror, Hilda begins to speak. "Hey Gatekeeper, tell Sherlock to get in here before his stud runs off."

"Sure thing, Cupid. I am summoning Sherlock now."

Almost instantly, Claude and Caspar make their way into the room. Upon seeing the transformed man in front of him, Claude summons every ounce of his willpower to keep himself calm and collected. 

"Damn, red is your color." Claude breathes. It was honestly a little annoying that Hilda somehow managed to make Sylvain _even more attractive_. 

"Yeah man, you look completely different! You really did an awesome job, Hilda." Caspar looks at Hilda admiringly. He was always impressed at how she could achieve amazing results when she applied herself. He really wished that he could also be so effortlessly talented.

"I know I did. But man am I tired now." The bubblegum-haired beauty then checks her phone and gasps dramatically. "Oh no, it has gotten so late and I need to get home. If only there was someone who could escort me back to the Goneril Estate…"

Before the others even had the time to process what Hilda was suggesting, the zesty bluenet took the bait. "I'll take you home! If any bad guys try to approach you, I'll knock em' out." Caspar then addresses Claude and Sylvain with a laid back grin. "I guess I'll meet you two back at the apartment later."

Claude winks at Caspar and nods in affirmation. When the two leave, the leader turns to face Sylvain, his face earnest. "I hope today wasn't too overwhelming for you. The Golden Deer all have their quirks, but we are happy to welcome you into the family...even though some of them might not outright show it." He then smiles sheepishly and rubs his hand behind his neck. "Also, uh, sorry about the side effects from the antidote. I'm going to tweak the formula for next time."

Sylvain groans upon remembering the unpleasantness he suffered through. "_Next time?_ You're never making me take that ever again."

With an amused grin, Claude ruffles Sylvain's (very pleasantly soft) hair. "You're going to have to convince me better than that. I’m your leader now, remember? What I say goes." He ducks when a flustered Sylvain tries to retaliate with a swipe of his own. "Now let me show you to your new home. It's not too far from here, but we're going to take the metro so I could see your charm in action."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you everyone for your support so far! I hope that you are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it.
> 
> also I owe one (1) apology to my sweet child felix hugo fraldarius :(
> 
> CODENAMES  
Claude- Sherlock  
Sylvain- Casanova  
Hilda- Cupid  
Ignatz- Picasso  
Raphael- Chef  
Lysithea- Prodigy  
Marianne- Doc  
Lorenz- Magnifico  
Caspar- Shortie


	4. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> caspar and raphael make sylvain and claude endure a grueling training regime, lorenz tries to deny his title of resident trust fund baby, sylvain embarks on his first mission, and the golden deer reach out to an unusual person for help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapters are starting to get longer! :) also, apparently it is/was rarepair week? I'm gonna need to step up my claudevain game some more in the coming chapters
> 
> see the endnotes for the codename key

####  **3rd day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 9:26:28**

Sylvain has started to become more accustomed to his new life as Joseph Neumann. In the time that he has spent with the Golden Deer, he has never felt so _authentic_. Without the Gautier name looming over him, he can speak more freely with others. The bitterness that he felt in his heart for so long was finally starting to disappear. It was funny how he is more himself now than he was when he was actually living as Sylvain Jose Gautier. He also has to admit that it was very weird at first to see the stories of his old self's death all over the news. Sometimes his mind would wander to thoughts of Ingrid and Felix and he would feel guilty. Even though he wasn’t on great terms with them for the past few years, he still felt a pang of regret for leaving them so suddenly like that.

And the promise…He hopes Felix forgot about it, for his friend's sake more than anything. 

Sylvain busies himself with fleshing out his new identity to bury these lingering feelings. In the days since the funeral, the Golden Deer have helped iron out all the details for Joseph Neumann's backstory. Claude had even gotten him a new phone and took him shopping for clothes. Apparently, the Golden Deer have accumulated a moderate wealth from executing various stings across Fódlan over the years, which keeps their operations running.

Sylvain was also immediately thrown into a rigorous training regime. Caspar is actually a private fitness instructor outside of his work with the Golden Deer, so he was adamant on personally overseeing Sylvain's training. Raphael is also enthusiastic about lifting heavy things, so he helped Caspar create the daunting routine. As a new recruit, Sylvain needs to be in good physical shape to be able to safely execute certain maneuvers and defend himself, so he couldn't talk his way out of the Extreme Death Training. Sylvain always prided himself on being fit, but the exercises that these two put him through made it seem like he never worked out a day in his life. He rolled giant tires across a gym for what felt like hours, he did push-ups while Caspar sat on his back (the bastard is actually really heavy!), he squatted until it felt like the veins in his forehead were going to burst… 

Claude seemed to greatly enjoy watching Sylvain waddle through their apartment after training, much to the other's chagrin. Unfortunately, Caspar's enthusiasm for physical fitness made him very insistent on enrolling Claude in their routine as well-- "to boost morale!" Caspar also felt bad that Sylvain became sulky whenever Claude commented on his training-induced soreness, so this was his way of making things even between his two roommates. In order to get Caspar to shut up, Claude finally relented and joined their training sessions--very begrudgingly. He stopped making fun of Sylvain since, because (although he will never admit it) he handled the regime with much less grace.

Sharing an apartment with Sylvain has also been quite the experience so far. Claude quickly learned that he and Sylvain have quite a few things in common. After enduring the daily Caspar Nightmare Exercises, Claude and Sylvain would try to avoid their blue-haired drill sergeant by playing a rousing game of chess together. Anything that involves advanced thought would immediately repel Caspar, so Sylvain and Claude found themselves engaged in heated tactical battles often. Surprisingly, Sylvain was actually quite good at chess and had beaten Claude on a few occasions-- that is no easy feat. Claude sensed that Sylvain did not yet fully showcase his true abilities, so when he was finally able to probe the redhead’s mind through a tactical game he was pleasantly surprised. Sylvain and Claude are also similar in that they are both natural flirts. Claude is more finessed and tactical with his coqueting than the other; he likes to see people squirm as they ponder his subtle suggestions. Sylvain, on the other hand, will basically sweet-talk anything with a pulse without any real thought behind it. He only cares about physical reciprocation, which mostly ends messily. As a result, Claude and Caspar have unfortunately already had to ban Joseph Neumann from flirting with any of the other inhabitants in their apartment complex and the surrounding facilities. Despite this new rule, Claude still likes to have his fun by engaging in provocative banter with Sylvain, which always goes completely unnoticed by the painfully oblivious Caspar.

It is also very apparent that Sylvain has never lived outside of the luxury (and privacy) of the Gautier Estate, because more often than not he traipses around with minimal clothing. Apparently since it is so frigid in the Borough of Faerghus, even the early spring weather in Derdriu is almost too warm for Sylvain to bear. Claude doesn't actually mind this, but it did catch him off-guard at first. What is more jarring, however, is the fact that Sylvain will leave bathroom door unlocked when he’s using it, which makes opening it almost like playing Almyran Roulette. Caspar’s high-pitched shriek upon barging in on a freshly-showered Sylvain for the first time _was_ quite hilarious, though. Aside from that, the three have gotten along quite swimmingly. Claude and Caspar have been close friends since high school and understand each other well. Caspar runs head-first into everything and Claude swoops in with a genius plan to get the other out of whatever mess he made. It was fun, usually. However, sometimes Claude finds Caspar's undying energy overwhelming and cannot always keep up with the other's antics. With Sylvain around, he can now occupy more of Caspar's attention and allow Claude to scheme in relative peace.

Interestingly, Claude has also noticed that the usual chaotic mess that he and Caspar generate in the apartment has started to diminish. So Sylvain is handsome, intelligent, an exhibitionist, and a neat freak. Alrighty then. 

Right now, the Golden Deer are all gathered in the conference room, awaiting orders for their next mission. Claude sits at the head of the long table and ceremoniously sets down a small envelope in front of him.

“Welcome, my deers. I think that it’s time we finally test out our pal Joey’s skills.”

Lorenz immediately recognizes the envelope and scoffs. “You’re actually sending _him_ to do that?”

Claude had anticipated such a reaction from Lorenz, so he delivers his rebuttal with ease. "He needs to learn the way of the Golden Deer. Lysithea has been teaching him stealth maneuvers, but some things just need to be put into practice in the real world. Besides, this mission shouldn't be difficult to execute--especially with me guiding him."

After staring intensely at Claude for a few moments and pondering his options, Lorenz relents. “Fine, I suppose I see your logic. I will just have to prepare myself to clean up his mess if things don’t go well.”

“Anyway, our next mission is to acquire some supplements to my research on the hidden history of Fódlan. Lucky for us, we have recently learned that the Gloucester family has an interesting artifact hidden away from prying eyes. Right in front of me is the key to the hidden archives within the Gloucester Municipal Building, courtesy of our resident trust fund baby.”

Said trust fund baby makes another noise of disapproval, this time at the undignified name he was just called. Before a squabble could erupt, Claude gets up, grabbing Sylvain's arm and dragging him to the entryway. "I'm going to give him his equipment and show him Gatekeeper. Be right back!" 

He then ushers Sylvain into a smaller, but still comfortably-sized room. On one end of the room is a large desk that houses four large computer screens. There are various crumpled papers and post-it notes littered on the desk, as well as empty cans of energy drinks. On the opposite side of the room there is a set of bright yellow bean bag chairs huddled around a TV. A battered retro gaming system is nestled underneath the TV, its various game cartridges strewn about in the general vicinity of the bean bags. Nestled in the corner is a minifridge, undoubtedly stocked with more energy drinks.

Claude was still holding on to Sylvain's arm when they walked in. With a playful chuckle, the redhead leans closer to his companion. "You know, I enjoy being manhandled as much as the next guy, but I really don't want to be caught in the middle when Lorenz decides to strangle you."

"Lorenz? He's more bark than anything. Me, on the other hand..." Claude pauses for a moment and leans closer to Sylvain, ghosting his lips threateningly over the shell of the taller man's ear. "I bite."

The warmth of Claude's breath on his sensitive skin sent a small shiver down Sylvain's spine. Usually, he would immediately respond to such a forward comment and revel in the attention. However, he found himself unable to move or say anything, completely entranced by Claude's roguish charm.

"Sherlock, please do not harm our new recruit."

Gatekeeper's voice brought Sylvain out of his trance, causing him to make a not-so-sexy gasp of surprise.

With an amused grin, Claude disconnects himself from the other and gestures to the grand computer setup. "I'm sure you've heard his voice plenty of times by now, but let me properly introduce you to Gatekeeper. He is a top-notch intelligence software that helps me hack into basically anything I want to get at. Gatekeeper is our eyes and ears on all of our missions. He's also really great at covering our tracks. We'd truly be nothing without him." He also decides that he is going to add 'professional mood-killer' to Gatekeeper's resume as well.

One of the screens lights up and displays a heart emoji. Gatekeeper's unmistakable friendly robotic voice then echoes through the room once more. "Sherlock, your praise makes me happy. I will do my best to continue to protect the Golden Deer!"

"Thanks, friend." Claude then moves the chair at the desk out of the way and bends to retrieve a box that is tucked underneath. While he was doing that, Sylvain took the liberty of admiring the small patch of golden skin that was exposed from Claude’s shirt riding up. His ears still feel warm from the comment that Claude made to him just moments ago. It was pretty embarrassing that Claude was able to affect him like that. He is going to have to step up his own flirt game, because he does not want to lose to Claude at what he does best.

Claude pulls out the box and heaves it onto the chair beside him, ending Sylvain’s reverie. Strands of wavy chocolate brown hair fall into his face, which he pushes back with his hand. "The stuff I'm about to give you is pretty expensive, so try not to break it, okay?" 

Claude first pulls out a small earpiece and presses it into Sylvain's hand. "With this, I'll be able to whisper in your ear all the time--no teeth involved." His emerald eyes smoldered as he held Sylvain's gaze. Sylvain suddenly felt very, very warm again. "It is your lifeline.”

He then pulls out a large belt with various gadgets attached to it. “And here are a bunch of other things that should help you slither about. There's also a small bodycam that you need to wear so I can better provide tactical advice to you. I’ll have Lysithea show you how to operate everything so you don't hurt yourself or any innocent bystanders.”

The two then return to the main room, where the rest of the Golden Deer were debriefed on the mission. Lysithea almost lost her patience when giving Sylvain a tutorial on his new equipment, but luckily there were no casualties during the demonstration.

####  **3rd day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Gloucester Municipal Building // 19:46:20**

Sylvain pads lightly through the darkened halls of the government building, staying close to the walls like Lysithea had advised him to. As promised, Claude speaks to him through his earpiece, giving him directions as he progresses. He finds the entrance to the archives hidden away in an older part of the building that obviously looks like it is no longer used. With a gloved hand, he deftly inserts the key and opens the door.

The archives are just as one would expect: rows upon rows of musty, dust-covered books line the shelves in the cramped room.

"Man, what a dump." Claude says idly. Sylvain hums in agreement.

Armed with his night-vision camera, Sylvain scans the shelves for what they are looking for. Finally, a flash of gold catches his eye. That has to be it! Carefully, Sylvain inspects the book. There are no words on the cover; instead it is graced with an intricate design. Embossed in the leather binding are the symbols of the Crests of the Ten Elites, neatly arranged in a circle. In the center of the image, the Crest of Flames is etched in a faded violet hue.

"That's it! Good work, Casanova. Now make your way out without getting caught."

Sylvain tucks the book under his arm and exits the stuffy room, carefully locking the door behind him. It was as if he was never even there. He then carefully retraces his steps through the municipal building. This spy thing really wasn’t that hard after all! It was pretty exhilarating, actually.

He was almost at the back exit of the building when he spotted a room with the light still on. Sylvain’s heart dropped when he realized that there was no other way out than going past that open door. He could faintly see the silhouette of someone’s shadow reach into the hallway--_they were close_. All he could hear is the faint rustling of papers and his heart pounding loudly in his chest. 

Claude curses under his breath. “Who could possibly be here right now? It's risky for you to leave through the main entrance, but that may be our only option now. We can't risk getting caught by whoever is in there.”

Suddenly, the door closes. The light is still on, but the immediate threat of being caught is now gone.

“There, now’s your chance. Go!”

Sylvain cautiously, but quickly makes his way to the exit. He holds his breath as he opens the door and makes his way into the cool night air. His eyes scan the dark alleyway for the unmistakable outline of the getaway delivery truck. With the book still carefully tucked under his arm, he saunters over to the truck and tries to even his breathing.

Once he enters the truck, he is greeted by the ever-cheerful Raphael. "Looks like everything went well, huh? Congrats on completing your first mission."

Claude pipes up through their headsets. "Casanova is a real natural. Good work you two."

"Well, it would've gone even better if my muscles weren't screaming the whole time." Sylvain pointedly pouts at Raphael, hoping that his kind heart will finally have mercy on his soul and reduce the intensity of their training regime.

Oblivious, Raphael smiles as he continues to drive. "No pain, no gain! I wonder if I should increase your cardio...that will make your endurance better."

The pair make their way back to the Golden Deer hideout in silence. Despite their victory, Sylvain felt very defeated.

While waiting for Sylvain and Raphael to return, Claude begins to pore over the security footage of the Gloucester Municipal Building. He had a hunch that something wasn’t quite right about that unexpected guest, and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

####  **3rd day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout// 21:32:04**

"Not too bad, huh?"

Sylvain hands over the delicate tome to Claude, who was sitting at his increasingly-cluttered computer desk. He hadn't found any leads on that person who was in the building; it was as if they had just suddenly appeared from nowhere. The resolution was too poor on the security footage to even try to get any sort of identifying features or biometric data. He decides to look more into it later, instead focusing on the major item that is now in their possession. Claude runs his fingers over the fine details in the leather binding, pausing briefly over a crescent moon-shaped crest.

“You're a real natural, my friend. Now it looks like I have quite a few all-nighters ahead of me to get through this thing." 

“I can think of something else that can keep you up all night,” Sylvain says in a low voice with a wink. The other Golden Deer who caught what he said (which happened to be Lorenz) blanched at the image he suggested. Claude chuckles and opens the book on his desk, displacing several papers in the process. His eyes scan the first page while Sylvain watches expectantly. Slowly, Claude’s lips curl into a frown. "Oh, well that was unexpected."

Caspar and Ignatz were on the other side of the room playing a racing game in the comfortable bean bag chairs. Marianne and Hilda were also seated, but did not participate in the intense game. Hilda was instead painting Marianne's nails a delicate pastel yellow. While Caspar was busy trying to push Ignatz’s character off the notorious rainbow road, the more sensible of the two directed a concerned look at their leader. "What's the matter, Claude?" 

Lorenz, who was too dignified for a bean bag chair, was standing behind the group with his hands on his hips. He couldn’t believe that anyone could find those kinds of games entertaining. What he really couldn’t believe, though, was that Sylvain actually succeeded in the mission. He is now concerned by the tone in Claude’s voice that things may not have gone so smoothly after all. “Instead of speaking cryptically like that, why don’t you explain to us what is happening?”

"Well, I think it may just be easier for you guys to see this for yourself."

Claude spins around in his chair and opens the book up on his lap. He turns the book so that it is facing away from him, allowing the rest of the Golden Deer to come over and observe it. The text...was not in the same language that they all spoke. This book was written in an ancient Fódlandic dialect, which is completely different than the version of the language spoken in 2085. There was no way that they would be able to understand such a text. Gatekeeper wouldn't even be able to translate it because the dialect just doesn't have any archived references online to run through his algorithms. 

Each of the Golden Deer take a look at the foreign script on the pages and frown. Caspar stares at it a bit longer than the rest, placing his hand thoughtfully on his chin. His eyes then light up and he claps his hands together in excitement, nearly startling Claude out of his chair--book and all. "Dude, I think I know someone who can crack this. I haven't spoken to him for a long time, but I'm sure he'll help us! Last I heard of him, he was moving to Enbarr for school." 

Claude narrows his eyes, weighing his other options. He decides that there actually isn't really much else that they can do, so he's going to have to trust Caspar-- a mildly terrifying thought. "Alright then, give me his name and I'll have Gatekeeper run a background check on him. Then you can reach out to him and see if he's willing to meet us."

The real voice of reason, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, sighs. “Claude, you’re really going to trust _Caspar’s_ personal judgement?”

Claude deadpans. "We have no other choice."

####  **4th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Enbarr Public Library // 13:05:54**

"I'm not helping you."

Caspar's friend, a scholar named Linhardt, lazily tucks a strand of long, forest-green hair behind his ear. Only Claude and Caspar went to meet Linhardt so as to not overwhelm the, as Caspar put it, “unconventional,” man. It was too risky to take the book where prying eyes could see it, so Claude was really hoping that they could use their word alone to get Linhardt to come back to the base with them to speak more privately.

"But _Linhardt_," Caspar is practically whining, "you _have_ to help! You're the only person I could think of who is smart enough to do this!"

Claude should have known better than to place all of his faith in Caspar like this without a solid backup plan, but dammit he had to prove Lorenz wrong! This childhood friend of Caspar's, Linhardt von Hevring, seemed trustworthy on paper. He is a current graduate student at a large liberal arts university in Enbarr who has apparently dedicated his academic life to understanding the history of Fódlan and the political influence of crest stones. Gatekeeper found a plethora of extremely obscure scholarly articles penned by the man and a social media page that had not been updated for almost ten years. His profile picture was a selfie taken by Caspar. Young Linhardt was sleeping under a tree behind the very closed-up image of the upper half of Caspar’s cherubic face. It made Claude happy to see that Caspar has always been spunky and outgoing--that he is staying true to himself despite all of the bad things that have happened to him. 

It is also apparent to Claude that Linhardt had a one-track mind and, despite his vast repertoire of knowledge, is quite lazy. He couldn’t even be bothered to move from his private study room in the library that he had been camping out in for what seemed to be the past week, if the food wrappers and blankets strewn about were any indication. 

Linhardt furrows his brows. "I gave you my answer, Caspar. I can’t afford to take on another project, because I have to work on my thesis." He punctuates his sentence with a stiff yawn. “Besides, what would I gain from helping you two, anyway?”

Caspar, determined as ever, firmly grasps Linhardt’s shoulder. His icy blue eyes burn with an intensity that only he could master. “Remember all of the stuff we went through as kids? If you help us, you’ll be making a difference like you always wanted to.”

Despite it being years since Linhardt and Caspar had seen each other, Caspar still knows that deep down Linhardt wants to see social change just as much as he does. The influential crest-bearing families in the Adrestia Borough imposed harsh taxes and outlandish ordinances on the districts that Caspar and Lihardt grew up in. Caspar and Linhardt’s parents were minor non crest stone-bearing elites in neighboring districts, whose duties were to ensure that the rules that the crest stone-bearing elites imposed were enforced. More importantly, they took the brunt of the criticism and anger from the public for the borderline extreme political maneuvers orchestrated by those who truly had the power. Caspar and Linhardt endured a childhood of being ridiculed and harassed by the public just by virtue of who they were. Eventually, Caspar’s parents decided to send him away to school and allow him to live a life outside of the political sphere, since his older brother was more fit to handle the Bergliez responsibilities. Linhardt’s parents tried to force him to take the Hevring title, which caused quite a bit of arguing (which Linhardt was not fond of). However, five years ago, his family was suddenly relieved of their duties without warning. Just like that, he was off the hook and free to pursue his research interests.

The sleepy scholar’s eyes widen a bit at what his friend had just said. He speaks, his voice lowered. “What exactly have you been up to for all these years…”

Claude interjects, hoping the conversation has finally swung in their favor. Even though this is a private room, they are still in a public place and Claude must choose his words carefully. “You probably know more than most about_certain_ things that go on around here that aren’t exactly great. We happen to know some people who are working on fixing that.”

Secretly, Linhardt was so focused on the influence of crest stones because he wanted to figure out if it was truly possible to create a world without them. Caspar knew him well enough to understand that. He really didn’t need to be persuaded much more. This would also be a nice excuse to get away from his thesis advisor Dr. Hanneman for a little while. That man could be even more draining than Caspar when he finds the right topic to discuss. “Ugh, fine... I’ll help. But only on the condition that I get a comfortable place to nap. This library gets much too cold for my liking.”

"Wait, really? That's great! You really haven't changed a bit, Linhardt. Welcome aboard." Caspar eagerly hugs his childhood friend.

Linhardt makes a halfhearted attempt to push away Caspar. "Don't make me change my mind."

Claude uses the train ride back to Derdriu to learn more about Linhardt-- that is, until he fell asleep. He decided by the end of the train ride that he definitely was trustworthy, albeit eccentric. It is a bit hard to believe that a person like him could ever get along with the firecracker known as Caspar von Bergliez. Hopefully he will remain a permanent member of the Golden Deer. However, Claude is sure that even if Linhardt doesn't stay with them that he will keep their identities safe. Just in case, he will have Gatekeeper track Linhardt.

####  **4th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 2:17:32**

The rest of the Golden Deer were waiting in the main room for what felt like an eternity when Claude and Caspar finally came in. Trailing behind Caspar is a tall, pale man who looks like he desperately needs to sleep. Claude gestures for the newcomer to sit down at the roundtable and then addresses the group once seated. “Let us all give a warm welcome to our knight in shining armor.”

Unmoved by Claude boldly declaring him to be their savior, Linhardt lazily waves a hand in greeting to the people sitting around him. "I'm Linhardt, a friend of Caspar's."

Lorenz, ever the critic, narrows his eyes at the unindustrious newcomer. It seems that Claude was willing to just let anyone into their base anymore. They had standards at one point! “So, Linhardt, please tell us how exactly your ‘expertise’ can help?”

Linhardt was unphased by Lorenz’s intense aura. "I'm well-versed in the political machinations of the crest stones, as well as certain aspects of ancient Fódlandic culture. That includes fluency in several dialects of the ancient language. One of my professors has quite the private collection of ancient historical texts, letters, and the like that he allowed me to peruse. I have also learned quite a bit about things that the Church of Seiros has hidden from the public through my translations."

He lifts his hand so it is now palm-up above the table. 

"For instance, humans have the innate ability to conjure magic."

With an impassive look, a small flame sparks to life on his upturned hand. The people sitting at the table around him stared at the flame in awe. Lysithea seemed especially moved by this, her rosy eyes glittering like gemstones as she observed the impossible flame. Linhardt then closes his hand, snuffing out the fire.

"So what exactly were you planning on having me do, anyway? It better not be too tiresome."

Claude grabs the tome from the table and hands it over to Linhardt. “We require your translational services.”

Linhardt’s cobalt eyes widened as he examined the tome. “This is…”

“The Creator’s Compendium,” Claude finishes.

The Creator's Compendium is a fabled text said to have been penned by the goddess herself. It supposedly outlines the true origin of Fódlan's founding and the intended purposes of the Crest Stones of the Ten Elites, among other things. The Gloucester family used to be historians and transcribers in ancient times. Thus, they had made a precious few copies of the important text to distribute to important figures across Fódlan. All copies of the text were thought to have disappeared over the course of time, as the church did not want the information to get into the wrong hands. What Claude had recently found out, however, was that one copy remained hidden in the Gloucester archives, forgotten to time. Now, here they are.

“Well, if you just said that you had this in the first place I would have put up much less of a fight.”

Claude rests his chin on his hands and holds Lihardt’s gaze, his face serious. “That’s the thing, my friend. We need to be very secretive about everything that we do. With the church on high alert with the missing crest stones, we can’t afford to have anyone breathing down our backs. From here on out, you are sworn to secrecy--or else I'll have my guard dogs go after you.”

Without hesitation, Linhardt nods his head in understanding. “You have my word. I will join your group; no need to send anyone after me. There is a lot that I can learn from working with the Golden Deer. I suppose I can come here and translate the book on my days off from class, since I can't take it with me.”

The rest of their meeting was spent catching Linhardt up to what the Golden Deer have been doing. He wasn’t surprised that the Golden Deer wanted to acquire the crest stones to unlock the mysterious door, which he had read about briefly in his own studies. In fact, he was surprised that Claude seemed to know more about it than he did. He thought that the door was merely an entrance to a tomb or something of the sort, but what the leader suggested makes sense given other bits of information he had come across over the years. He was also surprised to learn of another force lurking in the shadows stealing the crest stones. The church has yet to rescind the political power of the families who lost their stones, but something is bound to happen soon. Linhardt wonders if this other group might be politically motivated...

Linhardt also came up with his own codename, which he explained is the name of a deity from a far-away land: Hypnos, the ruler of sleep. He then adjourned the meeting, citing his urgent need for rest.

####  **4th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 5:12:28**

After walking Linhardt back to the train station, Caspar met up with Hilda, who had wanted to go shopping. It seems that recently Caspar has taken much more of a shining to going shopping, but interestingly only if it is with Hilda. Smugly, Claude contemplates the implications of Caspar having a crush on Hilda and ways in which he can use this information.

Claude and Sylvain went right back to the apartment after their meeting ended, feeling quite drained by the revelations that Linhardt made. Knowing about the hidden door was one thing, but witnessing _real_ magic…? That is an amazing discovery that is difficult to fully grasp. Claude is excited to delve into the subject in the future, but for tonight he feels he deserves a break. 

Claude and Sylvain are now lazing in their living room, watching a reality TV show where random people were put on an island as a social experiment to compete for a large cash prize. Claude is sprawled out on the couch, one of his legs dangling ever-so-gracefully off of the edge. Sylvain is sitting on the comfy chair on the other side of the room attempting to consume one of Caspar’s prescribed “muscle-shakes.” Sylvain is grimacing as he holds the concoction to his lips when both of their phones buzz.

> 🏅The Squad 🦌
> 
> [Doc] um, guys. you might want to put on the news right now  
[Doc] it seems pretty important..!  


When Marianne suggests something, you better believe that Claude and everyone else is going to do what she says. Immediately, he scrambles for the remote and switches over to the news channel. Sylvain chokes on Caspar’s disgusting drink when he sees what is on the screen.

“Holy shit…” the redhead splutters between gasps for air.

On the screen was a press conference with none other than Miklan Gautier, the reinstated heir to the Gautier Crest Stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I know that the GD group here isn't traditional to the game, but I want to interact with some other characters that I feel fit well in this universe. I want to flesh out relationships and interactions with characters that we didn't get to see in the in-game supports. more of the Garreg Mach students that you know and love will be appearing in some way in future chapters as well ;)
> 
> thanks again for taking the time to read this! It makes me happy to see that people are enjoying my lil spinoff.
> 
> CODENAMES:  
Claude- Sherlock  
Sylvain- Casanova  
Hilda- Cupid  
Ignatz- Picasso  
Raphael- Chef  
Lysithea- Prodigy  
Marianne- Doc  
Lorenz- <strike>trust fund baby</strike>Magnifico  
Caspar- Shortie  
Linhardt- Hypnos


	5. Entendre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> claude almost performs mouth-to-mouth, caspar gets into a freak accident, raphael's strength almost sends linhardt into a parallel dimension, ingrid gets fashion advice, holst von fire emblem makes everyone swoon, and miklan might not be so bad after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for coming back for another chapter! I hope you enjoy it! codenames are at the endnotes. :)

####  **4th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 5:48:58**

“--oddess has forgiven me for my past transgressions and welcomed me back with open arms. I have been blessed anew and vow to uphold the values of the Church of Seiros under House Gautier.”

Miklan is speaking at a podium, flanked by Sylvain’s parents and a stony-faced Seteth, advisor to the archbishop. Various news reporters are shoving microphones and cameras in their faces, eager to ask questions. Behind Miklan there are two large banners; one is emblazoned with the symbol of the Crest of Seiros, the other with the Crest of Gautier. He is wearing what appears to be a very expensive suit and his choppy light brown hair is slicked back neatly. 

“After the untimely death of my dear brother Sylvain, I realized that the people of the Borough of Faerghus--and all of Fódlan-- need figures that they can look up to now more than ever. While wandering Fódlan, I've seen and experienced the hardships that many of you suffer on a daily basis. I hope that in time I can earn your trust and inspire all to continue to live in accordance to the Goddess’ will.”

Once Miklan finishes speaking, he is ushered off of the podium by Seteth and whisked away from the reporters. Sylvain and Claude stare at the TV screen, dumbfounded. As far as either of them knew, a disinherited heir has never been accepted back into the church. More importantly, Sylvain wonders if Miklan is truly being honest with his intentions, or if he is just being the deceptive bastard that he’s always known. His speech was pretty convincing, he has to admit.

Although it felt like they were sitting there in silence for an eternity, only a few moments had really gone by. Claude finally decides to break the silence once he ascertains that Sylvain isn't having an existential crisis on the other side of the room. “Let’s talk to the group and see what they say,” he says as he unlocks his phone.

Sylvain shifts in his chair, nearly knocking down the barely-consumed Caspar Concoction with his foot. He crinkles his nose and decides to pick up his phone as well. “Tell Caspar that his drink sucks."

> 🏅The Squad 🦌  
[Sherlock] well that was unexpected  
[Sherlock] also shortie your gross drink actually nearly killed casanova  
[Sherlock] i almost had to perform mouth to mouth 
> 
> [Casanova] you still could if you want to 😏  


Sylvain and Claude both look up from their phones at the same time and make eye contact. Sylvain suggestively bites his bottom lip and winks.

Before Claude could think of a flirty response, their phones recapture their attention with a slew of incoming messages.

> [Shortie] ew gross!!! >:(  
[Shortie] also not my fault u 2 dont have good taste  
[Shortie] those shakes are bomb
> 
> [Magnifico] I’m going to ignore your buffoonery and redirect our attention to the real topic at hand. I wonder what that uncouth man has planned...saying he has been “blessed anew” by the goddess seems preposterous.
> 
> [Hypnos] stop sending so many messages. trying to sleep.
> 
> [Shortie] bro u cant just sleep on the train u’ll miss ur stop!!!!
> 
> [Cupid] and YOU can’t text and walk or you’ll trip over your feet
> 
> [Magnifico] Are any of you even concerned about what was just on the news?
> 
> [Cupid] ummmmm brb he just knocked over a huge display  
[Cupid] and is now buried under a bunch of mannequins  
[Cupid] I'm going to find help, keep us updated! 😘😘
> 
> [Doc] oh no...is Shortie okay?
> 
> [Sherlock] NO CUPID LEAVE HIM TO SUFFER WITH HIS LIFE CHOICES
> 
> [Casanova] HE DESERVES TO KNOW WHAT PAIN IS
> 
> [Prodigy] That’s a little harsh, don't you think? You two just need to man up and take your training seriously. 
> 
> [Casanova] she questions our integrity, our very MANHOOD 
> 
> [Sherlock] those are some real fighting words for someone who inhales cake in the hideout when no one is looking  
[Sherlock] gatekeeper has the footage so you can’t lie your way out of it ;)
> 
> [Chef] wsit we have cake ?
> 
> [Sherlock] ask our lil prodigy where she keeps it 
> 
> [Prodigy] You better sleep with one eye open...
> 
> [Sherlock] jokes on you I never sleep 🙃  
[Sherlock] anyway, let’s plan to meet in a few days to discuss what we’re gonna do with this new development  
[Sherlock] ✌🏽  


"I think she might actually kill you,” Sylvain deadpans as he stands up to stretch. In the time he has spent learning stealth techniques from the youngest member of the Golden Deer, Sylvain has found a deep respect for Lysithea. He also learned that Lysithea does not make empty threats; she had told him during one session that if he made another joke that day that she would make him regret opening his mouth. He inevitably made another joke, and she later “accidentally” left him dangling frantically from the ceiling by a rope attached to his belt.

Claude hangs his back over the armrest of the couch, so that he is now upside-down as he watches Sylvain stretch. His face is rather close to his companion's midriff, which is definitely not his intention for doing this maneuver at all. He smiles devilishly, despite the blood rushing to his head. “You see, I’m too devastatingly handsome to die at such a tender age.”

Literally anybody else would have looked absolutely ridiculous in that pose, but it seemed natural for Claude to be situated that way. His glossy brown hair hangs in loose waves, fanning out around his head. Sylvain walks closer to the edge of the couch and bends forward so that he is looming over Claude's face. Theatrically, he scrutinizes Claude's features, stroking his chin and pretending to be deep in thought. "I have to say that I agree."

Sylvain bends forward even more, and Claude's breath hitches when he realizes just how close their faces are. The only thing Claude could see now is Sylvain's adam's apple, which is directly in front of his eyes. He could feel Sylvain's warm breath tickling his lips, making him feel even more lightheaded. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his first kiss with Sylvain would end up like, but he supposes he'll just have to take what he can get.

Just as their lips were about to touch, a loud grumble resonates throughout the room.

Sylvain straightens himself up with record speed, his face turning redder by the second as he assesses his body's betrayal. He had almost sealed his victory in their unspoken flirt war...! 

"Guess my stomach is trying to tell me to eat some real food and not whatever Caspar prescribed," he says sheepishly. He's never going to be able to recover from this embarrassing moment. Ever.

Claude slowly sits upright, feeling his own stomach grumble. He decides it will be better to focus on food for now and try to figure out what almost happened between them later. He picks up his phone and pulls up the number for his favorite pizza place.

“Let’s order pizza and hide the evidence before Caspar gets home.”

####  **5th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 11:07:39**

Unsettled by the sudden return of Miklan, Sylvain and Claude end up at the Golden Deer base to find out what they could about Sylvain's brother before they meet with the rest of the group later in the week. Caspar (who now has a large bruise on his cheek from the "freak mannequin attack") is meeting with a client, so they managed to sneak past him without any mention of their own training.

Ever since they (almost) kissed last night, Sylvain has been acting more guarded, in his own way. He has been even more friendly and jocular--almost as if he were overcompensating for something. Claude has a feeling that Sylvain is more upset about his brother’s return than he is letting on. He knows that Sylvain hated his old life enough that he wanted to take extreme measures to leave it, but Claude also realizes that he does not actually know about his past in any great detail. Part of Claude is a little hurt that Sylvain doesn’t want to open up about what has been bothering him, but another part of him understands that it is just easier to ignore your emotions and put up an easygoing façade. He feels selfish for wanting Sylvain to trust him when he has never been fully honest with his closest friends about himself.

The pair are both seated in front of Gatekeeper, sipping the iced coffees that they got on the way over. (Claude was thoroughly disgusted at the fact that Sylvain drinks black cold brew, and Sylvain was shocked to see Claude order four turbo shots and not die after drinking it.) Claude sets his drink down and pulls up a criminal database, along with a couple other complex-looking applications.

“His full name?”

“Miklan Anschutz Gautier.”

Claude types it in. He and Sylvain both hold their breath as Gatekeeper runs Miklan’s name through the database.

One hit.

“He was arrested for burglary in 2083, but it looks like the charges were dropped.” Claude strokes his facial hair thoughtfully as he continues reading.  
“The incident report states that he tried to break into a satellite facility associated with Arundel Corporation and was intercepted before he could take anything of value.”

It doesn't surprise Sylvain that his brother would resort to thievery and deception after being kicked out. He actually feels a twinge of pity for Miklan at the thought. "I wonder why the charges were dropped..."

"Well, the Arundel name is really rising up in the business world. I recall reading recently that they just made a huge business deal with Aegir Enterprises. My guess would be that they didn't want to scare off their big investors by publicizing a security breach. It's actually a pretty common practice now."

Claude then runs Miklan’s name and face through other databases, trying to find out where he lived, if he had a job, or if he had a credit card or loans in his name-- really, any sort of official document with Miklan attached to it.

Nothing.

Claude frowns at the screen. “Either he used an alias that Gatekeeper can’t find, or he lived completely under the radar for the past five years. Do you know of anyone that he might have gone to for help? Any close friends?”

Sylvain shakes his head. Despite the fact that his brother knew every little detail about his life, he really never bothered to learn much about Miklan. He lets out a mirthful chuckle. "He only cared to share how much he resented me, whether it be with his words or his fists. I never stayed around him long enough to see who he hangs out with."

"That must've been tough." 

Claude pauses. He wants to connect with Sylvain, to let him know that he understands. After thinking carefully about what he wants to say, he continues, speaking a bit more quietly. "I know how it feels to be hated by the people who should love you."  
He has never shared anything about his own family with his friends, but somehow Sylvain has managed to loosen his tongue.

They turn to face each other, sharing a soul-baring gaze. Even though they do not speak another word, their eyes tell their stories and share their pain. Neither Claude nor Sylvain could quite understand why they feel such an intense gravitation for one another, but after this moment they are now both a little more sure that whatever it is that is happening between them, it's more than just superficial physical attraction. 

"Sherlock, it appears that Hypnos is approaching the building. Shall I grant him access?"

That's right, Linhardt had texted earlier in the morning and expressed an interest in coming to the base to work on the Compendium.

"Yeah, let him in. Thanks, Gatekeeper." 

Claude then gently places a hand on Sylvain’s knee. “The past is the past. Let’s keep our heads up and focus on the future, yeah?”

####  **7th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Galatea Estate // 10:21:47 **

For her entire life, Ingrid longed to live free from the whims of high society. She wished instead to devote her life to protecting others-- to be someone's knight in shining armor. But alas, she must be the dutiful daughter and do what her father asks of her.

"We have arranged a courtship. You will be meeting your suitor later today. This is a very important opportunity for House Galatea, so please take it seriously."

Ingrid balls her hands tightly into fists as she accepts her fate. In a perfect world, she would have foregone marriage completely and committed her life to working in the Church of Seiros Police Force. They are Fódlan's protectors…the valiant people who uphold a code of honor in service of the Goddess and the land. She knew for a long time that she would never be able to realize this dream, so she settled for learning advanced self-defense techniques on her own. Her father knows that she has a license to carry and that she keeps mace on her at all times, but he doesn’t know that her intentions for doing so were to make her feel closer to her unattainable dream.

“Of course, father.”

The Galatea family obtained the governing rights to the Daphnel Crest Stone through a merge that occurred long before even Ingrid’s parents’ lifetimes, thrusting the Galatea name into power rather than the Daphnels. However, the Galatea family has struggled to maintain political influence in the Borough of Faerghus in recent years. The Blaiddyd-Duscur Tragedy caused a significant economic recession due to shifts in trade; the Galatea-Daphnel province suffered the most from this fallout due to being a low political priority. Ingrid’s father spent all of the family’s resources attempting to restore the economic health of their governing land. Now, the only option that they have is to marry their only child Ingrid to someone wealthy so they can have money to sustain the Galatea name. For the past five years, Ingrid has gone on quite a few arranged dates, but marriage has never been explicitly mentioned or expected until now. 

Before her father could say anything else, Ingrid excuses herself and makes her way to her room. She sits on the edge of her bed and stares at her phone’s black screen.

Before she had any sort of arranged “date” like this, Sylvain would check in on her. If she ever got a bad feeling from the person she was with or just wanted to leave, she would text Sylvain and he and Felix would come to her rescue.

She couldn’t bring herself to just ask Felix to be her scapegoat. He isn’t creative enough to come up with an elaborate scheme like Sylvain could. He has also become even more cold and distant since the day Sylvain was _found_. He barely answers his phone and has stopped visiting her completely. If she asks Glenn about Felix’s whereabouts, he just just sighs and says that he doesn’t know either. It felt more like she had lost _both_ of her remaining childhood friends that day.

Life has been moving too fast, changing too much. She supposes she just has to accept this reality and try her best to move forward.

With a sigh, she decides to text her closest confidants, Mercedes and Annette, to ask how she should dress for her date with her future husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ingrid’s suitor pulls up to the Galatea Estate in an impressive cherry red luxury sports car. He has to admit that he is uncharacteristically nervous for this encounter. He wants to make sure that he makes a good first impression on Ingrid and her family. He also does not wish to disappoint his father or tarnish his family’s esteemed name. His father had said that this arrangement was important for the family. Ever the dutiful son, he obliged without question.

The suitor gets out of his car and makes his way to the entrance of the Galatea Estate, where he is greeted by the family’s only servant. He watches in awe as a beautiful young woman with short, elegantly-styled blonde hair walks confidently to the entrance to greet him. He smiles gently before taking her hand and brushing his lips over her knuckles.

“I am Ferdinand von Aegir.”

Ferdinand is wearing a stylishly-tailored maroon suit, which accentuates his apricot-colored hair perfectly. Long ringlets of his hair frame his face, giving him a slightly mysterious aura. Ingrid smiles politely back at him, unsure of what else to do at the current moment.

“As I’m sure you already know, my name is Ingrid.”

Ferdinand releases Ingrid’s hand and offers her his arm. She hesitates for a brief moment, but then links her arm in his and allows herself to be escorted to his car.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ingrid. I hope that this evening will be most enjoyable for you.”

In the few moments that Ingrid had to assess her suitor, she was oddly not completely off-put by his highborn mannerisms. He actually reminds her of a charming prince from one of her favorite fairy tales with his proper and chivalrous behavior. If it were anyone else, she would never have so easily acquiesced to being escorted to a car--or anywhere else-- like this.

Ferdinand takes Ingrid to a fancy steakhouse that she never would have dreamed of being able to go to on her own. As they sit at a table nestled in the back of the restaurant, Ingrid’s attention is solely focused on the exquisite food in front of her.

At first, Ferdinand worried that Ingrid was not enjoying herself. Their conversation topics were average and she seemed a little distant. However, once the food arrived, her eyes lit up and she was more lively than ever. Despite the lack of conversation, Ferdinand finds it enjoyable to observe Ingrid’s strong passion for fine dining. 

He finally dares to speak to her. “I am happy to be sharing a meal with someone who has a similar appreciation for cuisine. The chefs here are truly artisans who put a lot of effort into their craft.” His eyes sparkle with admiration.

Ingrid swallows her food and nods in agreement. “I’m usually not too picky when it comes to food, but this is truly on another level. These chefs are very talented.” 

Ferdinand beams at her approval. “I have been friends with the owner’s son since childhood. We ride horses in the countryside together often and could spend hours talking about the intricacies of food and tea. The entire family is passionate about cuisine, which I find incredible.”

_They actually have common interests?_ Ingrid somehow manages to scrounge up enough self-control to set down her fork. “You like horses, too? One of my favorite pastimes is to go the stables and take my horse for a long ride. I don’t see many people taking to horseback riding anymore, since they’d rather just stay in the city.”

“Horses are such gentle creatures. You can see so much wisdom and kindness in their eyes.” Ferdinand smiles longingly, thinking of his sweet mare. “If you would allow it, our next meeting could be a relaxing horseback ride through the beautiful pastures of Gronder.”

“I would like that.”

This evening actually wasn’t terrible, Ingrid admits. Ferdinand definitely has his quirks, but he seems honest, hard-working, and kind. His family owns a large construction and contracting company that was responsible for establishing most of the modern infrastructure throughout the entirety of Fódlan. Despite living a privileged life, he appears to want to prove himself worthy of the inheritance of his father’s fortune. Plus, he likes horses. And food.

As she watches his flashy red car drive away from the Galatea Estate, Ingrid wonders what Sylvain and Dimitri would think of Ferdinand. Maybe she'll ask them the next time she brings flowers to their graves.

####  **9th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 12:23:08 **

All of the Golden Deer are seated at their command table. At the head of the table sits Linhardt, who is resting his head on his hand and falling asleep. The Creator's Compendium and several journals are neatly placed in front of him. 

Claude sits at the opposite end of the table, tinkering with a tablet. Sylvain leans in closely to Claude, watching in awe as the other works his way through a complex-looking string of code. He contemplates playing footsie with Claude, but decides against it when he sees how focused the other is. The rest of the Golden Deer are fidgety, having already been seated for almost fifteen minutes in relative silence. Marianne is twiddling her thumbs. Ignatz has taken to sketching Marianne's bored face. Caspar manages to steal a piece of loose paper from Ignatz and makes a paper airplane, which he launches directly into Linhardt’s nose with a cackle. Linhardt is snoring lightly, completely unphased by Caspar's offensive maneuver. Hilda giggles at Caspar's antics and encourages him to make more. She wants to see how many paper airplanes it would take to actually wake up Linhardt.

Finally, Lysithea has had enough. She slams her hands down on the table, rousing everyone from whatever it was that they were doing. “How long are you going to keep us waiting here for? I have finals coming up soon that I need to study for.”

Prepared for the sass, Claude responds with an easygoing smile.“You see, this was actually a social experiment that I had set up. I wanted to see how long it would take for one of you to start the meeting without my cue.” He taps a few more buttons on his tablet and finally looks up at Lysithea, who is glowering at him. “Or how long it would take for Caspar to accidentally set something on fire.”

In response to his comment, Caspar launches a paper airplane at Claude. Claude catches it and crumbles it in his hand with a smirk.

Lorenz is now the one to speak, his brow furrowed. “How childish. What could you possibly gain from pulling a stunt like that?” 

Claude throws the piece of crumpled paper onto the table and then waves his hand dismissively. “You’re not the psychologist here, dearest Lorenz. How I use this data is strictly confidential.” In reality, Claude had encountered an unexpected error when he was trying to establish remote access to Gatekeeper from his tablet. He wanted to fix the issue sooner rather than later, so he just had everyone wait while he worked on the code. 

“Last time I checked, neither were you. Now can we _please_ get started with the meeting?” If looks could kill, Lysithea would have murdered Claude one hundred times over in the past few minutes.

“Since you asked nicely, I suppose we can. Why don’t we start with Linhardt's progress report?” Claude gestures towards the sleeping figure on the other end of the table.

Raphael, who is seated to Linhardt's left, places a large hand on the scholar's shoulder and shakes him vigorously. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead," he bellows in his jovial voice.

Linhardt is not amused by his rude awakening. He grumbles and weakly shoves Raphael's hand off of his shoulder. In the future, he will have to avoid sitting near the Large One to prevent further damage to his cervical vertebrae. He stretches lazily before addressing the group, allowing himself more time to reawaken.

"The first few chapters actually did not have much new information to offer. I recognized almost immediately that they were the original ten commandments of the Goddess, along with some parables. I'm keeping my translations here in this purple journal, so you can take a look at them for more details. I also brought my translations of basic magic runes for your use."

When Linhardt finishes, Claude leans back in his chair. "Well, progress is progress. Thanks, sleepyhead."

He then turns to Sylvain, who offers a small nod.

"Now that Linhardt's done talking, let's get down to business. It seems we now have to deal with ghosts from the past. Miklan Gautier is back in the political sphere after giving one heck of a return speech. According to Gatekeeper, he only has one little blemish to his name despite the uproar he caused before his exit from House Gautier five years ago."

Claude holds up the tablet, which is now showing the search results from Miklan's background check. The rest of the group inspects it closely.

"Conveniently for him, the charges were dropped and he has been squeaky clean ever since. So clean, in fact, that there was just no record of his existence at all up until his grand reveal."

While the rest of the Golden Deer are digesting this information, Marianne speaks up. "So is the Gautier Crest Stone going to be our next target?" She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looks expectantly at Claude.

He shakes his head. "Not yet. I think it would be in our best interest for now to just keep tabs on him. The Golden Deer _are_ going to find out what he was up to these past few years, though. A little birdie told me that there is a church-sponsored charity gala on the 17th that all crest stone-bearing families were invited to. Lorenz and Hilda, you two are tasked with personally assessing Miklan’s character."

Hilda and Lorenz exchange a look, then nod in agreement. Hilda has learned to stop questioning how Claude gets his information, but Lorenz, on the other hand, desperately wants to know Claude’s secrets. One day, he will crack the mystery that is Claude.

Claude reaches into his coat pocket and sets down a handful of small cameras and microphones on the table next to his tablet.

"Sylvain, Caspar, and Lysithea. While the gala is going on, you will go to the Gautier Estate and plant these so I can have eyes and ears on the place."

Before this meeting, Claude had discussed his plans with Sylvain in great detail. He wanted to make sure that Sylvain was comfortable with revisiting the life that he left behind. Although they have not spoken of that intense moment that they shared a few days prior, since then Claude and Sylvain have felt even more comfortable around each other--they trust each other more. Sylvain had stopped overcompensating for his emotions with a superficial smile, which was a relief to Claude.

"Ignatz, we're going to need your art skills to make my little contraptions here more inconspicuous."

“Sure thing, Claude. I can make a variety of textures to blend in with furniture and cloth.” Ignatz pauses and looks uncertainly at Sylvain, “Uh, would I be able to ask you about the type of furniture and color palettes used in the Gautier Estate some time?”

The former Gautier nods and tries to conjure images of his childhood home. He sees splashes of muted gray, dark brown, and faded indigo. “Spoiler alert: the Gautier family hates bright colors.”

Sylvain leans back in his chair and puts both of his hands behind his neck. He looks at Claude, prompting him to continue.

"That's not all, my deers. We also have to account for our competition's possible schemes. I came across something interesting during our last mission that makes me suspect they're going to make a move soon.”

Claude pulls up security camera footage on his tablet and shows it to the group.

“Lorenz, would you happen to know of anyone who might come to the Gloucester Municipal Building after hours through a different entrance? I checked the keycard entry and exit timestamps for each employee, and according to the logs everyone was gone long before Sylvain got there. Whoever this is, they did not get in via traditional means. I couldn’t trace them in the security footage or gather any sort of identifying features, either.”

“I cannot say that I know of anyone who would have such privileges outside of my father, but he was at a conference in Enbarr that entire week. This is definitely troublesome…” 

"Alright then, I think it is safe to say that the Gloucester Crest Stone is going to be targeted next. We can use this as an opportunity to find out more about the identities of our competition with a little trap."

Hilda claps her hands together in delight. "Ooh, this is exciting! Things are finally starting to get more interesting around here. Don't expect me to get my hands too dirty, though."

Sylvain then speaks. "A trap, huh? What exactly has the mad scientist come up with this time?"

"You'll see," Claude says with a wink.

####  **17th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 19:01:19 **

Claude's eyes flicker between the different feeds on his monitors carefully. He needs to be especially vigilant with his team split up like this to make sure that everything is going according to plan.

Earlier in the week, he had Lorenz set up his trap in the room in Gloucester Municipal Building where the crest stone is held. The other thieves have yet to make a move, but Claude is prepared. He has kept constant surveillance on the Gloucester building and improved the quality of the video feed that he receives so that he can get identifying details.

Claude also has a full view of the security footage from the gala venue in addition to the feed from Lorenz and Hilda's bodycams. Right now, Hilda is arriving arm-in-arm with her older brother, Holst. Hilda is wearing a form-fitting wine red dress made from a rich, velvety material. Around her neck hangs a beautiful golden heart-shaped pendant with intricate patterns engraved in it. Within that pendant is Claude's hidden camera, allowing him to see and hear everything from her point of view. Holst is matching Hilda in a wine-colored velvet suit with black details. His suit is tailored perfectly, emphasizing his toned physique. His shoulder-length, dusty pink hair pulled into a stylish bun, further highlighting his handsome features. Holst's dazzling smile and charming dimples seem to brighten the room. Hilda waves at passersby with a regal air to her. It appears that the Goneril duo have captured the attention of everyone else in the ballroom with their charisma and good looks.

Lorenz stands on the opposite end of the room, a flute of champagne in hand. He is wearing a carefully-tailored white suit with lavender trim. On his right breast pocket is a lovely red rose, inside of which is Claude's other hidden camera. He is talking to another nobleman, whose attention seems to now be solely focused on Hilda and Holst's breathtaking entrance.

Both Lorenz and Hilda also have a discreet earpiece hidden by their hair. Claude scans the room once more and speaks into his own headset.

"Our target has arrived, but is currently speaking with a group. Magnifico, make your way over and try to listen to the conversation. Cupid, you just mingle for a bit and I'll let you know when you can go speak to him one-on-one."

He then shifts his attention to Sylvain, Caspar, and Lysithea. 

"All right you three. Just as we planned, go through and plant everything. Stay vigilant, because there may be housekeepers wandering the premises."

Sylvain waves a hand, ushering his two accomplices to the barely-used side entrance of his former home. He pulls out Claude’s lock-picking invention and places it on the doorknob. Once he hears a click, he re-pockets the device. The trio enter the Gautier Estate quietly. The hallways are dimly lit, allowing them to sneak through with relative ease.

“Okay, now you three should split up. Remember, Casanova is taking the upper level, Shortie is taking the kitchen and dining room area, and Prodigy is going to the parlors and guest rooms on the first floor.”

Things appear to be going smoothly over at the Gautier Estate, so Claude takes a look again at Hilda and Lorenz’ situation. Lorenz has made his way into the group of curious people surrounding Miklan. The Gautier heir is wearing a charcoal grey suit and his hair is styled similarly to how it was during his press conference a few weeks ago. Claude taps into Lorenz’s sound feed and listens in.

“--plans do you have for the future of House Gautier? Do you feel that you are fit for the role?”

“My experiences both within and outside of House Gautier have better prepared me to help the people of Fódlan. I understand the troubles that the everyday person faces, as well as the intricacies and demands of being a crest stone-bearer.”

From what Sylvain has told him, Claude understands that Miklan is an expert of manipulation and deception. His skin crawls at the thought of what terrible things Miklan must have put Sylvain through as a child to have made Sylvain so distrustful of him. Right now, however, Miklan appears earnest and thoughtful; the surrounding nobles are completely eating up what he is saying. A few more people ask Miklan general questions, which do not reveal much more. Even Claude--the master of deception-- has to admit that Miklan’s act is very convincing.

After a few more minutes, a church official gathers everyone's attention to announce the night's activities. Archbishop Rhea stands at a grand podium in the center of the ballroom, with Seteth dutifully at her side.

"Thank you my esteemed guests for coming here tonight in the name of the Goddess. We are here to celebrate our successes and give back to the communities that we love. Use this time to inspire others to do great things and to continue to live as the Goddess wills us to."

She pauses, allowing the audience to appreciate what she has said. Then, Rhea leads the room in a prayer.

Once the prayer is finished, Seteth takes her place at the podium, his serious demeanor making the atmosphere feel slightly heavier.

“I would also like to remind you all that the very foundation of your duty as leaders of this fine land comes from your respective crest stones. In the light of recent events, I encourage my colleagues to be vigilant in assuring the security of their crest stones and to report any suspicious activity to the Seiros Police Force.”

Seteth’s serious expression softens slightly. “Since that is out of the way, I would like to officially commence the night’s activities. Light refreshments will be served now, and the silent auction will begin in 30 minutes. Thank you, and may the Goddess always be with you.”

Claude scans the room once more. Hilda needs to get Miklan by himself before the silent auction starts, or they may not have the chance to speak to him later. 

“Cupid, I want you to work your magic now. He’s going to get a drink. Follow him and make sure that no one else joins your conversation.”

Hilda pardons herself and saunters over to the bar, where Miklan is standing. She orders herself a drink and stands casually next to him.

She looks up at Miklan and smiles sweetly. “How is your night so far?”

“It is very nice, but a little tiring, I have to admit.” Miklan studies Hilda’s face, his brow furrowing slightly. I’m afraid that I do not recognize you. May I ask for your name?”

“Hilda Valentine Goneril,” she says with a curtsey.

He offers a polite bow in return. “I am Miklan Anschutz Gautier. It is a pleasure to meet a fine lady such as yourself.”

“Likewise.” Hilda smiles demurely. “You know, you don’t seem as bad as the media made you out to be all those years ago. I feel like you're one of the most trustworthy people in the room.”

“Right. I have made mistakes and learned from them. I am glad that you are not basing your opinion of me on some newscaster’s portrayal.”

Even in the dim light, Hilda’s keen eye notices something on Miklan’s face. There appears to be a long stripe running from his left eyebrow to the middle of the bridge of his nose, which is covered up with makeup. Most likely a scar. To the untrained eye, the mark would be almost completely unnoticeable. Hilda will have to tell Claude about this later.

The bartender hands Hilda and Miklan their drinks. Hilda bats her eyes at Miklan and motions to an empty table nearby. “Would you like to sit with me and chat for a little while?”

Miklan agrees with an enthusiastic nod and escorts Hilda over to the table, pulling out her chair for her. They make small talk, allowing Hilda to get a better feel for him and to gain his trust.

Hilda lets out a small gasp and grabs Miklan's hands. “It slipped my mind to mention it before, but I am so sorry about your younger brother… That must have been so hard for you.”

“Yes, it was.” He draws his gaze downward, looking remorseful.

“My older brother always tells me that the best way to heal from loss is to keep alive fond memories of those who have passed. What is your favorite memory with your brother?”

Miklan hesitates and clenches his jaw. After a moment, he relaxes. “I guess I would have to say that I enjoyed our trips to the city. One time he tried to loudly flirt with what ended up being a mannequin in a shopping center. He then became known as the doll whisperer.”

Hilda lets out a small chuckle. “It sounds like he was very lively. I bet you were always having to get him out of trouble.”

“Always.” He appears slightly uncomfortable. His eyes keep shifting to different corners of the room.

Hilda leans in closer and squeezes his hands, drawing Miklan’s attention back to her. “Well, let’s talk about something more happy. What are your other professional interests?”

Miklan takes a sip of his drink and nods. “I am interested in entrepreneurship. I hope to be able to contribute to the economy through smart investments in promising businesses.”

She nods enthusiastically and lets go of his hands. “Ah, that sounds great! Have you already interacted with some business owners? I know of a few great ones in the Leicester Borough, but I have not interacted with anyone in Faerghus or Adrestia.”

“Yes, there are quite a few that I have already had interactions with. The Adrestia Borough has quite a few promising businesses that wish to contribute to the greater good of Fódlan. I am afraid I cannot say any more than that for now, since our partnerships are still pending.”

Miklan then stands up and bows at Hilda. “I must be leaving, but it was a pleasure talking to you. You are always welcome to visit the Gautier Estate as my guest.”

Claude sighs in defeat. He didn’t get as much information as he had wanted, but they can definitely work with this.

“Good work, Cupid and Magnifico. You two are done for the night. We don’t want to draw any suspicion to us, so just keep an eye on him from a distance for the rest of the night.”

Claude then focuses on the security feed coming from the Gloucester Municipal Building. So far, nothing suspicious has happened. Perhaps he was wrong to think that their competitors would strike tonight. After one last glance at the building, Claude decides to check back in on Lysithea, Sylvain, and Caspar.

Back at the Gautier Estate, Claude is pleased to see that the camera placement in going smoothly. He notices, however, that at this moment there is no movement coming from Sylvain’s bodycam feed. 

Sylvain is standing in a room--his old room-- which has since been turned into a study. He should have expected this to happen, but it still hurt to see how quickly his parents had moved on from his death. After a moment, he begins to place the cameras in their appropriate locations in the room. As he is about to leave, he notices a small box tucked away in the corner, hidden haphazardly under some blankets. Curious, he opens it. 

It’s some of his stuff. His phone. The teddy bear that Dimitri got him as an apology for accidentally breaking his wrist during an arm wrestling match. His favorite jacket, and a lot of random junk that he didn’t recognize. After shuffling through a little more, he finds a dog-eared polaroid of him with his childhood friends in front of a giant snowman. He remembers how much time it took them to make it, and how much Felix had whined because he was so cold. They all looked so happy… 

He pointedly shoves the photograph in his pocket, closes the box, and throws the blankets back over it.

“Casanova…” Claude sighs. This must be very difficult for Sylvain. There is little chance that anyone will realize that the photo is missing, so Claude allows him to have this last memory of his old self. “The others are waiting at the rendezvous point. Get out of there without being caught. Then, drinks are on me.”

Sylvain takes one final look at his old room and makes his way to the rendezvous point, which is the hallway leading to the side entrance that they had first entered from. Lysithea and Caspar are waiting, pressed against the wall so as to not be easily seen. 

“Okay, everyone is here. The coast is clear outside, so you can head out. Chef is parked a little ways down the road. Remember, he is in a van this time--not the truck.”

While the trio make their way to Chef’s getaway car, Claude double-checks the feed from the newly-planted devices in the Gautier Estate. To his delight, everything is working perfectly. Soon enough, he will find out what Miklan’s true intentions are.

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 00:11:06 **

When Caspar and Sylvain return to their apartment, Claude greets them with an easygoing smile.

"Good work, you two. As promised, I have acquired our victory drinks. Go get changed and meet me back out here."

Once Caspar and Sylvain emerge from their rooms, Claude leads then to the kitchen, where he pulls out three cold bottles from the refrigerator. He got a case of his and Caspar’s favorite craft beers, and something that he thought Sylvain might like. As he passes out the opened bottles, he winks at Sylvain. 

"I used my unparalleled mind-reading powers to figure out what your favorite beer is. Enjoy."

Sylvain inspects the bottle. It's a citrus-blended lager that actually is, in fact, one of his favorites. He is now a little nervous that Claude might actually be serious about having mind-reading powers.

He chuckles and takes a sip. "This brew is actually pretty popular in Faerghus. You just had a lucky guess." 

Caspar slams his bottle down on the table. "Hey, if you could actually read minds then tell me what I'm thinking of right now!" His icy blue eyes burn intensely as he stares down Claude.

"That's easy. You're thinking about how awesome I am for being able to read minds."

Caspar pauses.

"I, uh...I guess that _is_ what I was thinking. Dammit! Let me think of something else and then try again!"

After playing 'Guess What Caspar is Thinking' for a short while, the three roommates spend the rest of the night drinking more and playing hilariously inappropriate card games.

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 6:31:49 **

Claude is rudely awakened by his phone's message tone blaring right into his ear. Last night, his mildly drunk self must’ve thought it would be a good idea to leave it on his pillow. Ugh. He scrutinizes the notification on the screen, willing his bleary eyes to focus on the words. His stomach drops when he realizes who it is that has contacted him.

> [Birth Giver] Call me as soon as you get this. We need to talk. 

He immediately calls his mother back, keeping his voice down so as to not wake up his roommates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all of your love and support with this fic! It really means a lot to me that you enjoy this! I won't have a regular update schedule due to my outside responsibilities, but I'm hoping to get at least 1 chapter every/every other week from here on out. If you have any comments/suggestions/see any typos, I appreciate a comment!
> 
> also bergamot is pretty bitter imo so sylvain definitely would chug cold brew black <strike>just like i do</strike>
> 
> come talk to me about FE3H on twitter @rosesandthorons 
> 
> CODENAMES:  
Claude- Sherlock  
Sylvain- Casanova  
Hilda- Cupid  
Ignatz- Picasso  
Raphael- Chef  
Lysithea- Prodigy  
Marianne- Doc  
Lorenz- Magnifico  
Caspar- Shortie  
Linhardt- Hypnos


	6. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> claude gets questioned by the police, felix tries to be a good samaritan and it backfires, ingrid is sad, and ferdie does some soul searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to note that there is an intense discussion of sylvain's 'death' here, so please keep this in mind and take care if this is a triggering topic. it starts at "Rodrigue happened upon their conversation" so to skip ctrl+f to "Disgusting." 
> 
> to everyone who is reading this, make sure to stay hydrated, take a look at a nice picture of claude von riegan, and treat yourself to your favorite snack. you deserve it. :)

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 6:52:21 **

Claude sits on the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his head in his hands. His head is throbbing from a mixture of the alcohol that he consumed the night before and the news that his mother just told him.

Claude hasn't spoken more than a few words to his mother over the past few years. He was unofficially kicked out of the Riegan manor when he finished high school, so he hasn’t seen his family since then. Claude's grandfather currently holds the rights to the Riegan Crest Stone. His daughter, Claude's mother, had Claude outside of wedlock. Claude never met his father, but what he does know from his own snooping is that he is a travelling musician from Almyra. 

Being born outside of wedlock is now more common in Fódlan and is not frowned upon as much as it used to be. However, a child born outside of wedlock who is destined to be the heir to the most influential political family in the Leicester Borough is a bit more difficult to justify. Making things even worse is the nationality of Claude's father; Almyrans have been considered an enemy of Fódlan since ancient times. Political discourse has been nearly impossible for the two nations, both stubborn in their own ways. As such, a deep resentment and fear of Almyra is embedded in the psyche of the people of Fódlan. 

It is also not completely uncommon for people from certain regions of Fódlan to have darker skin, which is how Claude's family justified why his skin is several shades darker than the rest of the fair-skinned von Riegans. If anyone ever found out that Claude is half-Almyran, however, the entire family would be treated as a disgrace and very possibly lose all of their political leverage. As a result of this fear, Claude's family decided to keep his presence hidden from the political world. Therefore, he has never been in attendance at any sort of political function that the von Riegans hosted or attended. He is his family’s dirty little secret, and he was always treated as such. Their fear of losing power is also why he was kicked out of the estate after graduating high school. His grandfather _does_ send him a monthly allowance for living expenses, but other than that he only exchanges brief holiday greetings over the phone with the rest of his family. His family cannot completely sever their relations with Claude, because they do not have another suitable heir to their crest stone...yet. His mother is now married to a renowned Leicester businessman, and they have been trying (with little success) to produce a new heir. 

Claude is officially recognized by the Church of Seiros as the current heir to the Riegan Crest Stone, but no one else knows this--not even Lorenz or Hilda. Luckily for Claude's family, the Riegan surname is relatively common throughout Fódlan. Historians have tried to find a common ancestor among them all, but evidence remains unclear. Even though Claude grew up with his family’s last name, due to his appearance and the commonness of his surname, no one has questioned his potential affiliation to the influential von Riegan family. Claude kept his true identity to himself throughout high school. None of his friends ever asked for details on his family life and he somehow managed to scrape by without revealing his upbringing up until now.

His mother was uncharacteristically frantic when she answered. Before she even said what she wanted to say, Claude _knew_.

His plan had failed.

The other thieves stole the Riegan Crest Stone.

His family is finally facing the reality that they had feared for so long, but ironically it has nothing to do with him. 

Claude should have anticipated this. He was so sure that they were going to target the Gloucester Crest Stone, that he never even toyed with the possibility that his own family’s heirloom would be targeted. Because he barely spoke to his family, he did not have any sort of extra security in place to monitor the Riegan Crest Stone. He knew that it was guarded well enough, so he felt that it would be safe until the Golden Deer were near the end of their own stone-collecting mission.

His mother wants him to visit the Riegan Manor later today. The Seiros Police Force wants to question the entire family-- especially him, since he is still the heir to the stone.

This is turning out to be quite the mess. Claude is going to need to get more sleep if he is going to have to interact with both his family _and_ the people that actually want him in jail.

He wraps himself back up in his blankets, takes a deep breath, and tries to empty his mind.

####  **17th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Fraldarius Manor // 20:30:01 **

He has finally had enough.

Felix can no longer bring himself to be anywhere near his father.

Earlier in the night, he had refused to attend the fancy event that the church is hosting because he _knows_ if he sees Miklan’s face that he won’t be able to resist punching it.

Glenn, who annoyingly can read Felix very well, understood that Miklan is the reason why he vehemently refused to attend. He tried to reason with Felix, using any type of ploy he could to get his younger brother to acquiesce.

Rodrigue happened upon their conversation and things quickly took a turn for the worse.

_"Miklan chose to change his life for his people, which is much more noble than, ahem, running from one's duties as an heir."_

Only the Fraldarius and Galatea families knew of the truth behind Sylvain's death-- that it wasn't an accident. That bastard Rodrigue just threw that in Felix's face, then had the nerve to say that the low-life skunk that spent his entire life making Sylvain miserable was more _noble_? That Sylvain's death was _worthless_?

Rodrigue had said something equally as asinine about Dimitri after the Blaiddyd family’s funeral service.

_ "He died in service to Faerghus like a true nobleman."_

Disgusting. It made Felix's skin crawl, to reduce one’s worth to how they uphold a title.

While _Rodrigue_ and Glenn are throwing money at random charities they have never heard of in the name of the Goddess, Felix is packing up his essentials and preparing to leave his home for good.

Once he stuffs a sufficient amount of items in a duffel bag, he slings it over his shoulder and quietly leaves the Fraldarius Manor without looking back.

He takes the last running train, not caring where its final destination leads to. He just wants to get as far away from his father as humanly possible. While on the train, he decides that he should probably say something to Glenn so he doesn’t have anyone breathing down his back later.

> [Felix] glenn. i left for the city. got a job at a law firm that i’m starting next week.  
[Felix] staying at a friend’s place for now. tell anyone who asks for me to fuck off.  


That seems believable enough. _Rodrigue_ has been haranguing him for ages to do something productive with the political science degree that he was forced into getting, so this is the perfect excuse to get his father off of his case.

When the train makes its final stop, Felix disembarks and finds himself in an unfamiliar city somewhere in the middle of the Leicester Borough. Vaguely, he notes that he is in some affluent district of Derdriu.

It is getting late. He should find some place to spend the night, but all he sees are fancy condos and overpriced apartment complexes. _Of course_ he would end up in a stupid place like this.

Felix walks quietly down a narrow, dimly-lit street. In the distance, he finally spots some semblance of normalcy. He sees the unmistakable neon glow of 24-hour fast food restaurant signs. There has to be a hotel or something close to them, so that is where he decides to walk to.

Any other normal human walking through this lonely street at this time of night would probably feel a little uneasy. Felix, however, is very confident in his self-defense skills and can also easily out-run most. He continues on, hyper-aware of his surroundings and ready to inflict pain if needed.

_Footsteps._

In front of him, he now sees the silhouette of a man, who appears to be holding a purse. A woman yells in the distance, identifying this man as the thief who stole her purse.

Felix takes pursuit, moving swiftly despite the luggage strapped over his shoulder. Unfortunately, this purse-thief has one major advantage over Felix: he knows the area. The two men are sprinting through winding streets and making random turns in different alleyways, which is becoming disorienting for Felix. The thief then knocks over a bunch of trash cans, causing enough of a delay that Felix loses track of the next turn that the other made. He stands in the middle of an alleyway, cursing under his breath as his chest heaves from exertion.

It is surprising to see something like this happen in such a wealthy part of the city. Usually, petty thieves crawl around the middle-class neighborhoods. Felix straightens himself and tries to think of what he should do next now that he no longer knows where the fast food haven is.

"Do not say a word. You are coming with me."

Suddenly, something large grabs Felix from behind. One hand covers his mouth with a cloth, and a large, muscular arm constricts tightly around his midsection.

Felix contemplates biting this person's hand in defiance, but he can feel his assailant's towering height looming over him from behind. He probably would just end up with a broken jaw-- or quite literally snapped in half-- if he pisses off his gigantic assailant.

Rage simmers in Felix's soul as he is led through the alleyway. He refuses to lose consciousness, despite the overwhelming stench of the chemical on the cloth fogging his brain. 

The person shoves him into the back of a van, where he lands on the floor with a soft thud. The last thing Felix sees before he loses consciousness is a mop of messy, straw-colored hair at the front of the van.

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Riegan Manor // 12:00:43 **

Due to his unsavory headache, Claude decided before he left for his family’s home that he would save himself further torture by waiting to tell the Golden Deer about what is happening. Luckily, Sylvain and Caspar were still asleep when he left the apartment, so he just left a note on the kitchen table saying he was going shopping. That should hopefully satisfy them.

The Riegan Manor is only a ten-minute metro ride away from their apartment complex, nestled in the middle of the wealthiest district in Derdriu. It is famous for its stunning architecture and unique location. The entire city of Derdriu is built around a vast tributary network that stems from the Airmid River to the south. The Riegan Manor is flanked by crystal-clear streams on each side, which capture and reflect the early afternoon sunshine. 

As Claude stands at the front gate of his former home, he smooths out his nice button-down shirt and tries to even his breathing. He is then ushered inside the house to the parlor, where his mother, stepfather, and grandfather are all sitting on a plush couch, waiting restlessly.

An unamused woman with short violet hair stands next to the couch with her arms crossed. She is in plainclothes, but Claude immediately notices a badge engraved with the unmistakable Crest of Seiros pinned to her hip.

“Nice for you to finally join us, Claude,” the officer says. “My name is Shamir Nevrand. I am a detective in the Seiros Police Force. I am sure that your family has updated you on the current situation. I’m here to ask you a few questions.”

Shamir nods to the entryway, silently telling Claude that she wants to speak to him in a separate room. They both leave his family in the parlor, moving to a small room down the hall.

Shamir sits down in one chair, and motions for Claude to sit in the chair next to hers. She pulls out a pen and a small notebook and angles herself so that she is facing Claude. Without waiting for him to situate himself, she begins to speak.

“Where were you last night?”

Right to the point. 

He can’t say anything that will give away the location of their hideout. If he just says that he was home without anyone else to corroborate his alibi, then he can open himself up to further investigation.

He needs to tread very carefully, or he could ruin everything.

Ah, that’s right! He still has the receipt from the liquor store stuffed in his wallet. That should have a timestamp on it, placing him away from the scene of the crime and making his alibi of being home more believable.

Claude responds, his voice matter-of-fact. “My roommates and I had a game night in our apartment. I got us some beer and we stayed in.” He looks at Shamir innocently. “I might still have the receipt from the liquor store if you want to see it.”

It’s not a complete lie, so he should definitely sound believable. Probably.

Shamir holds eye contact with Claude, seemingly trying to gaze into his very soul. It takes all of Claude’s finesse to not squirm under her intense stare. After what feels like an eternity, she waves her hand dismissively. 

“No need for that. This is just protocol. I asked the rest of your family similar questions."

Protocol. Right.

"You should know that we also received a report of a separate robbery and other suspicious activity near the Riegan Manor close to the projected time the crest stone was stolen. It is possible that these parties may also be involved in the theft of the stone, so stay vigilant.”

Really now? Maybe Claude will get a lucky lead on his rivals after all. 

“You don’t say. Do you have any idea what they might look like?”

He is trying to inject the perfect mixture of concern and nonchalant-ness into his response. He needs to be interested, but not _too_ interested.

“A van was spotted circling the neighborhood, but no suspect was apprehended. We unfortunately were unable to get a physical description of any suspects from the witnesses.”

Shamir closes her notebook. Claude notes that she didn’t even write anything in it. Just how seriously are the police taking these investigations?

“You don’t have to worry about any of this. We will handle everything from here on out. If you see anyone suspicious, here is my card.”

She hands Claude a business card with her name, phone number, and official title: Chief Detective.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to do that.”

Claude and Shamir then return to the room where the rest of his family is anxiously waiting. For the rest of the day, he has to endure conversations about the future of House Riegan and strategies to maintain their integrity.

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // ??? // 7:51:40 **

The rich aroma of bacon welcomes Felix as he awakens from his slumber. He feels comfortable, safe, at peace. He hasn’t felt this refreshed in a long time, he thinks lazily as he stretches. His bed is especially comfortable and warm--

\--but this is not his bed, he suddenly realizes. Last night's events rush back to his consciousness. Felix abruptly jumps out of the bed, tangling his limbs in the blankets and falling to the ground. His body feels like jelly, probably from whatever the hell it was that made him pass out the night before.

"Felix!"

Felix freezes. There is someone in this room with him, and they were probably watching him sleep this whole time. That's creepy. What unsettled Felix even more, however, is the fact that this stranger _knows his name._

Mustering up all of his strength, he disentangles himself from the snare of blankets and pounces at the figure, who is seated in a chair in the corner of the dim room.

"What the hell kind of sick joke is this?" He growls as his hands bunch in the shirt of his kidnapper(?)

The person seated in the chair places their hands on Felix's arms in an attempt to calm him down. Felix, who is seeing red, tries to fight against the person's stupidly strong grip. He fails. 

"I can explain."

Before Felix could spit back a retort, the door to the room abruptly opens and the lights turn on. 

"Sir, is everything okay?"

Felix clenches his jaw as he finally observes the face of the asshole who did this to him. He slackens his grip on the person's shirt and slumps limply onto their lap.

"But you…" Felix feels his chest tightening.

It is unmistakably _him_. The ghost that he refused to let haunt him for the past nine years, at the cost of his own humanity.

"Everything is okay, Dedue. He is awake now." The person--_Dimitri_\--says in a steady tone.

Dedue stands in the doorway, scrutinizing Felix with a frown. "If you hurt Dimitri, there will be consequences." 

Dimitri and Dedue share a look of understanding. Then, he silently leaves the room to tend to the bacon once more.

"What the fuck," Felix wheezes as he lifts his hand to touch his lost friend's cheek. He needs to be sure that he is real. 

Dimitri's hair is longer, messier. A simple cloth eyepatch covers his right eye. His remaining cerulean eye observes Felix, showing a mixture of emotions. One of his hands is now on the small of Felix's back, preventing the dumbfounded man from falling backwards and injuring himself further. His other hand awkwardly brushes a loose strand of hair from Felix's face.

"There is a lot that I need to tell you." Dimitri speaks softly, but Felix could detect an underlying darkness in his tone.

"That is an understatement," Felix huffs.

He has become more aware of the intimate position that he is in with his childhood best friend. Feeling a flush creep up his neck, he pushes his hands down on Dimitri's legs and tries to slide off of his lap. Dimitri's hand, which is still on Felix's back, keeps him in place. Wordlessly, Dimitri wraps his other arm around Felix and holds him closer. Felix makes an indignant grumble, but allows Dimitri to hug him like this for a few moments. His head rests comfortably in the crook of Dimitri's neck. 

They could feel each other's heartbeats. The rise and fall of their breathing. The warmth radiating from their skin.

Felix is overwhelmed by the onslaught of long-repressed emotions swirling through his brain.

“You’re really alive…” Felix speaks, almost in a whisper, into Dimitri's shoulder.

Dimitri sighs softly. "I apologize for the pain that I must have caused you all."

Unbidden, hot tears fall from Felix's eyes, wetting Dimitri's thin cotton shirt. 

"I lost you. I lost Sylvain. And all I could do was sit back and watch as everything fell apart." His voice cracks.

Dimitri had seen the news. It shocked him that Sylvain had so suddenly passed. He felt guilty, like he could have been able to prevent it somehow. He felt terrible for leaving all of his friends--and his people-- behind.

Part of him doesn't feel like he deserves to hold Felix like this, to be able to speak to him again. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn't happy that fate has brought his friend back to him.

Dimitri squeezes Felix as gently as he could, letting his friend know that he is here now-- that he cares. "You aren't alone, Felix. Not anymore."

After a few more moments, he loosens his grip on Felix, who has been completely silent. "Dedue has made us breakfast. Let's eat, and then I will explain everything."

Felix quickly regains his composure and removes himself from Dimitri. He feels embarrassed that he reverted to his childhood habit of crying in the arms of his best friend. 

The two make their way to the kitchen, where Dedue has a spread of delicious food prepared. The hulking man wipes his hands on the dish towel draped over his shoulder and acknowledges their presence.

"I am Dedue Molinaro. I attended the cultural festival held at the Blaiddyd-Duscur Embassy nine years ago, representing Duscur through my family’s trade. Sir Dimitri saved my life that day.”

Dedue joins Felix and Dimitri at the table and gestures for them to begin eating.

"Felix," he says curtly. “Now can you two explain what is going on?”

In the back of his mind, Felix notes that Dedue must have been the giant that had initially grabbed him in the alleyway. He stands well over six feet tall and is extremely muscular. Scars that appear to have been from burns lick up his neck. Smaller, neater scars pepper his face as well, like he were sliced with a spray of shrapnel. Felix can’t even imagine how Dimitri and Dedue managed to make it out of the building alive, but they both clearly bear scars that serve as a permanent reminder of what they had suffered through.

Dimitri nods while piling a healthy amount of cheesy eggs and bacon on his plate.

“Last night, we mistook you for someone else.”

Felix swallows his mouthful of food and narrows his eyes at Dimitri. “That doesn’t explain why you intended to kidnap someone in the first place.”

“Do you trust me, Felix?” His expression is so painfully earnest.

Felix huffs. “I suppose at this point I don’t have any other choice.”

“We were trying to apprehend someone who we believe was involved in causing the explosion nine years ago.”

Dimitri pauses, allowing Felix time to comprehend what he just said. Felix plays with the food on his plate, his lips pressed into a tight line.

“That day, Dedue and I happened to be at the right place at the right time. Before the event started, I overheard people talking about how they were finally going to end the Blaiddyd bloodline and acquire our crest stone. On instinct, I went to where we were keeping the stone and took it. I then quite literally ran into Dedue just as the ground began to shake. It was too late to warn anyone else...”

Felix could tell that this is painful for Dimitri to recall. He can’t even begin to imagine what the scene was like. His friend pauses, tense.

“We somehow managed to get out alive with the crest stone. Only us...and whoever those people were.”

Dimitri is gripping his fork so hard that it has started to bend. Sensing Dimitri’s darkening mood, Dedue continues the story.

“From that moment on, Sir Dimitri and I have spent our time in hiding, allowing the culprits to believe that they have succeeded in eliminating the entire Blaiddyd family. Our goal is to pursue and deliver justice to those who have caused that tragedy. They are most likely also the ones responsible for the recent crest stone thefts. Our intel has led us to believe that they were going to target the Riegan Crest Stone last night, so we staked out the surrounding neighborhood in search of suspicious characters.”

“So _I’m_ a suspicious character?”

“You were wearing black and running with a bag in a dark alley. That is sufficiently suspicious,” Dedue deadpans.

“I was chasing a purse thief!” Felix glowers at Dedue, who simply stares impassively back at him.

Dimitri then speaks, having composed himself. “I have to ask. What were you doing in Derdriu of all places so late?” He wants to ask Felix so many questions. His friend has changed so much since he last saw him. Then again, he too has changed.

“It doesn't matter.” 

They sit in awkward silence for a heartbeat. Felix tries to change the subject.

"If you're really trying to chase down these lowlifes, count me in."

Dimitri frowns. "What about your duties back home?"

Of course Dimitri would circle back to the thing that Felix clearly doesn’t want to talk about.

"There's nothing there for me anymore," he says through gritted teeth. “Just let it go.”

Felix doesn't even realize that his hands are shaking until he hears his fork scrape against his plate.

Dimitri places his hand on Felix's arm. "I apologise for overstepping my boundaries. I won't ask any more questions."

He smiles that stupid, charming smile that Felix loved so much when they were fourteen and carefree and he couldn't help but relax a little.

Dimitri continues. "You are welcome to stay with us in our apartment. Luckily, we have a spare room that is already furnished. You should also know that we have two other roommates who are not here right now. I'll introduce you to them later."

That's right, are they still in Derdriu, or are they somewhere else?

"Fine, I'll stay. But where the fuck did you even end up taking me anyway?"

Dimitri says matter-of-factly, "we're in Remire."

####  **18th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 4:10:43 **

Claude finally returns to the apartment, completely drained from everything that has happened today. 

Caspar and Sylvain are sitting on the couch watching TV. Caspar jolts up and apprehends Claude as soon as he realizes that his friend has returned.

“You’re back!”

Sylvain assesses Claude from his spot on the couch, noting immediately that his outfit is unusually formal. He is wearing a nicely-pressed olive green button down shirt, which is tucked in to form-fitting camel-colored pants. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up neatly just below his elbow. He is also wearing an expensive pair of brown leather shoes, which Sylvain never would have even imagined that Claude would own. 

“Yeah, sorry I was out for so long.”

He could sense the tension in Claude's voice, despite his outwardly cheerful demeanor. Sylvain toys with saying something to mess with him, but decides to be a decent person and keeps his mouth shut.

Caspar, on the other hand, is like an overly excited puppy. He excitedly hovers around Claude and prods him about his outfit, where he went, and why he didn't bring home any food. He doesn't even wait for Claude to respond, but instead just spews out all of his questions in succession.

Claude kicks off his shoes and unbuttons the first few buttons on his shirt. While Caspar is still chattering, Claude makes his way to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water and sits down at the dining room table. 

"You guys should sit down. There's something important I have to tell you."

Caspar's mouth finally shuts, and he looks at Claude with concern in his eyes. Sylvain wordlessly takes the seat next to Claude, hoping that whatever news he has to deliver isn't as terrible as he expects it to be.

Claude takes a long sip from his water, giving himself more time to prepare for how he is going to divulge this information to his friends.

"Another crest stone has been stolen."

Sylvain idly taps his fingers on the table. "It wasn't the Gloucester Crest Stone, was it?"

Claude shakes his head. 

Caspar narrows his eyes. "So then why were you gone all day? You were trying to catch the bad guys without us, weren't you? We're a team, you know. I want in on the action too!"

"I wasn't doing anything on behalf of the Golden Deer. Directly, at least. I was summoned by my wonderful family to tend to some things. That's how I became privy to this information." 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"The Riegan Crest Stone has been stolen. My family’s heirloom."

Caspar’s jaw hangs open. “Wait, so you’re from like _the_ von Riegan family?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Caspar falters, finally understanding that Claude has hidden such a big part of himself throughout their entire friendship. “Why didn’t you ever say anything...?”

This really sucks. Claude knew that his friends would feel betrayed by his lack of transparency with his personal life. He knows every last detail about their lives, yet he couldn’t even share a shred of his own. Hopefully if he is honest now, his friends will forgive him. He frowns as he studies Caspar's hurt expression.

“My father isn't from Fódlan. My mother wasn’t married to him when she had me. It was the perfect disaster leading to my existence. My grandfather decided it would be best to hide me from the political world and only make my existence known to the church. It was hard to keep their secret with me running around Riegan Manor, so once I graduated high school they basically kicked me out.”

Sylvain is shocked at what Claude is saying. It had never crossed his mind that Claude was also a crest stone heir. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t act like the rest of the heirs that he knows. Claude isn’t self-absorbed or elitist--far from it. He now understands the source of Claude’s pain, which he had glimpsed slightly when they were alone in the hideout a few days prior. It now makes much more sense to Sylvain as to why Claude is so passionate about eliminating the existence of crest stones as well.

Claude’s voice remains even, but strained as he continues.

“They’ve been working hard to procure a more ‘acceptable’ heir, but so far they’ve been stuck with me.”

He smiles weakly.

“Sorry for not saying anything for all these years, Caspar.”

“It’s okay. I...wow. I didn’t realize you were going through all of that.” Caspar is much calmer now, but is still fidgeting in his chair. “You are really an incredible guy, Claude.”

“You really are,” Sylvain echoes. “We’ll figure this out together.”

Relieved, Claude nods. “Thank you, both of you.”

It feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

####  **19th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 10:48:19 **

News of the theft has already spread like wildfire on the news and social media.

After Claude had explained the situation to Sylvain and Caspar, he sent a message to the rest of the group asking to meet.

They are all gathered in the meeting room, unusually somber. Even Linhardt had managed to come in on such short notice.

"The Riegan Crest Stone, as you all probably know, has been stolen. I'm sorry that as your esteemed leader I have made such a large miscalculation in our rival's motives."

Lorenz interjects before Claude can continue, visibly annoyed. "What about the trap we set with the Gloucester Stone? You're saying we have no leads on these thieves at all then?"

"I did manage to get some information." 

Claude pauses. The group looks at him expectantly.

"My family called me home to be questioned by the police yesterday. Afterwards, the detective told me that there were reports of suspicious activity close to the Riegan Manor the night of the theft."

Ignatz gasps. "Why were you being questioned by the police? Is it because you share the last name with the crest stone bearers?"

Sylvain, who is sitting next to Claude, places his hand on the other's leg under the table as a small gesture of encouragement. Claude welcomes the comforting contact and faces the group, his face stoic.

"It was because I'm the heir to the crest stone."

Lorenz huffs, incredulous at this new information. "How is it that I was never made aware that you are the heir to the most influential crest stone in all of the Leicester Borough?"

"That's a good question, Lorenz. It's because no one knew outside of my immediate family and I wasn't allowed to talk about it. You could probably guess why my family wanted to keep me a secret.”

Claude takes a breath and addresses the group earnestly. “I’m sorry for having kept something like this to myself. It was just easier that way. I hope you can forgive me for not being completely honest." 

Hilda responds first. “I know that you wouldn’t hide anything from us unless you had good reason to. I trust you, Claude.”

“Yeah, boss! The past is the past. We’ll stick with you through this to the end!” Raphael bellows enthusiastically.

Marianne flashes a determined look at Claude. “You have always been there for us. So let us be there for you, too. You don’t have to bear your burdens alone.”

The rest of the group shares their support for Claude as well. 

So he had worried for nothing.

"Thank you friends… We are family here in the Golden Deer and I promise you that we will see our mission through, together."

The group cheers.

After sharing their tender moment, Claude gets back to business. "Thanks to the tip the detective gave me, I have some leads on their possible getaway vehicle. I am going to try to pull security footage from the streets to pinpoint that van. We might be able to find some identifying features."

Claude directs his gaze at Lorenz. "We also still have the trap in place with the Gloucester Crest Stone. They are bound to target it eventually, so when they do we will be prepared."

Lysithea taps her chin thoughtfully. "Isn't it risky to let them get their hands on another crest stone? They already have the advantage over us in numbers, so it would be in our best interest to secure as many crest stones as we can. Even your own family's crest stone was taken right from under your nose, so we need to be even more vigilant."

"Well, we _want_ them to get the Gloucester Crest Stone," Claude says with a grin.

Lysithea and the rest of the group gapes at him.

"I built a 3D printer a while back and finally had the chance to use it. Before the gala, Lorenz switched out the real stone for my very convincing replica. We can try to lure them to the Gloucester Crest Stone next. It would also be in our best interest to replace the Goneril Crest Stone as well, since Hilda has easy access to its location."

Hilda twirls a strand of hair in her finger. "I wouldn't exactly say easy access. Holst is very protective of our crest stone. He doesn’t even let _me_ near it. We’re really going to need to be invisible if we’re going to get anywhere close to it."

“You don’t say,” Claude muses. “I’ll think of something, just give me some time.”

Linhardt clears his throat, drawing the room’s attention to him.

"If I may, I think that it may be beneficial to start practicing casting magic. I haven’t tried this particular spell myself, but I do recall translating something that detailed the ability to warp from one location to another. If someone can master that, you will have a larger array of stealth maneuvers at your disposal.”

Lysithea’s eyes glimmer. “I’ll do it.”

Mariannce nods her head. “If it’s okay, I’ll join you in your studies so I can be more helpful.”

Claude clasps his hands together. “Great, thanks for your enthusiasm you two. Let’s plan for all of us to meet here at least once a week to practice using magic. Something like this will really give us the upper hand against our opponents. Linhardt, do you mind leading the group in these exercises?”

The scholar yawns. “I will if I must…”

####  **24th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Gronder Field // 13:08:19 **

As promised, Ferdinand has brought Ingrid to the rolling pastures of Gronder to leisurely ride their horses. They have been enjoying the scenery and each other’s company. 

However, Ferdinand can tell that Ingrid is being reserved. He hasn’t known her for very long, sure, but he likes to think that he can read others’ emotions well. At the Annual Church of Seiros Charity Gala a week prior, Ingrid was lively, talkative, and absolutely mesmerizing. He was honored to attend not just as a representative of the Aegir name, but as a companion of Ingrid's. He feels that their relationship has grown since that night; they have been texting frequently, both talking about serious things and sending memes.

Now, she is not speaking very much and keeps haphazardly checking her phone every few minutes.

"May I ask if there is something the matter? If you are comfortable with speaking, I am happy to lend my ear to listen to your troubles."

"Oh, it's not that big of a deal."

Glenn told her that she was overreacting. Felix is responsible. A grown man who can take care of himself.

"If you insist then I won't pressure you further. Just know that I am always happy to help you in any way that I can. I have been told that I have quite the knack for giving good advice."

Ingrid sighs. Ferdinand's bright smile, coupled with the afternoon sun glowing behind him, makes it hard to not want to open up to him.

"I guess I've been worried about Felix, one of my close friends," she starts. "He suddenly left to take a job in Fhirdiad without even telling me."

"Well, that is quite sudden."

They continue to canter along a scenic path.

"I want to be happy for him, but I can't help but worry. He won't text me, and I can't get any details out of his brother."

"I am sure that he has his reasons. Hopefully with time he will come around once again."

Ingrid refuses to cry, despite the aching in her chest. She misses her friends and longs to go back to happier, more carefree times. "It is wishful thinking. He has been acting a lot more aloof and reckless recently."

She sighs.

"We all just kind of fell apart after the tragedy nine years ago. We lost our friend, Dimitri. Then...our other close friend Sylvain…_left_ us last month. Felix hasn't been the same. None of us have, but he just internalizes everything. It hurts that he doesn't want to talk to me, despite the fact that I’m the only one left that he has besides his family."

The Blaiddyd-Duscur Tragedy. Ferdinand recalls that his father's company was involved in the construction of the building. The explosion was deemed an accident. The building was completely up to code, so the company did not face any repercussions. His father told him to not worry about anything like this happening in the future. Despite all of this, Ferdinand cannot help but feel guilty for this event in some way. He can’t help but question it, although he could never speak his doubts aloud. If Aegir Enterprises prides itself on top-quality work, then why would something like that ever happen to begin with?

Ferdinand files his thoughts away and addresses Ingrid in a soothing, but sincere tone. “Everyone handles their grief differently. I am sure that his reaction means nothing personally towards you. In fact, I would dare to say that he doesn’t want to speak to you because he cares about you. He probably doesn’t want to burden you with his own concerns.” 

A soft breeze blows a long strand of Ferdinand’s hair into his face. He tucks it behind his ear and looks earnestly at Ingrid.

“I am very sorry that you have suffered through so much loss. With time, these wounds will heal.”

Ingrid nods. “I hope you’re right.”

They continue their journey in comfortable silence, enjoying the spring afternoon.

Ferdinand returns home early in the evening, still troubled by the conversation he had with Ingrid earlier about the loss of her friends. He ends up at the door to his father’s study, which is empty. 

He looks around, making sure that no one is around to spot him.

Quietly, he enters his father’s study. To be completely honest, he isn’t sure what he is looking for, if anything at all. Important papers would probably be in the corporate office, but maybe there is something here...

He wants to believe his father about the circumstances behind the tragedy, he really does. He just needs to confirm it with his own eyes to let his conscience rest.

Ferdinand carefully cards through loose papers, books, CD’s, folders, anything that looks like it may have information on it.

Tucked away underneath a stack of junk in a drawer, Ferdinand spots a blueprint.

The door to the house opens. He hears his father greet someone.

Panicked, he shoves the paper in his pocket and leaves the office without being caught.

####  **24th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 16:01:52 **

Claude has had a few days to obtain and pore over all of the security footage from the streets surrounding the Riegan Manor. Right now Linhardt and the rest of the Golden Deer are in the meeting room practicing magic. Claude is using his time alone to try to find something useful.

He finds the van sneaking around Derdriu, but can’t pinpoint where it came from. The quality on the street cameras are extremely low, unfortunately. Another problem that he has encountered is the angle of the stupid cameras. Whoever these people in the van are, they know how to place themselves so they are almost completely out of the frame, making it impossible to get any type of identifying information.

He decides to stop for now, noting that the timestamp on the current frame is just before midnight. The others should be finishing up their magic lesson soon. He needs to figure out how they are going to lure their adversaries to steal the Gloucester Stone next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for coming by for another chapter! I am so grateful for your support and feedback! 
> 
> sorry there wasn't much claudevain action in this chapter, I needed to set some more things in motion. I have been SO EXCITED TO REINTRODUCE DIMA AND DEDUE so I hope that is a little consolation! 
> 
> come say hi to me on twitter @rosesanthorons
> 
> CODENAMES:  
Claude- Sherlock  
Sylvain- Casanova  
Hilda- Cupid  
Ignatz- Picasso  
Raphael- Chef  
Lysithea- Prodigy  
Marianne- Doc  
Lorenz- Magnifico  
Caspar- Shortie  
Linhardt- Hypnos


	7. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dimitri shares a survival technique that he learned from the internet, claude and sylvain teach caspar how to flirt, claude's tablet crashes at the most inconvenient time, ferdinand continues his investigation, and linhardt realizes just how much he hates frat boys

####  **19th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Remire Townhouses // 9:03:12 **

It has been a whole day since Felix was 'kidnapped' by Dimitri and Dedue. He has to admit that he is impressed that they have managed to live under the radar like this for so long, because they don’t exactly blend in with a crowd. 

To his chagrin, Felix also notes that Dimitri has grown significantly. As teenagers, Felix prided himself on being exactly two and three-quarter inches taller than Dimitri. Now Dimitri stands _at least_ five inches taller than him and is much more imposing. Whereas Felix is lean and agile, Dimitri is muscular and powerful. In fact, Felix has already witnessed Dimitri accidentally destroy several household items with his brute strength. Dedue just patiently cleans up the mess as if he were Dimitri’s personal servant.

The apartment that Dimitri and Dedue live in is also quite nice. Felix doesn’t really want to know how they can afford such a swanky place for being dead people, but he suspects it must have something to do with the unnamed roommates.

These other two roommates that Dimitri mentioned are the masterminds behind their plan to avenge the Blaiddyd-Duscur Tragedy. While Dimitri and Dedue were tasked with staking out the Riegan Manor, these two people were investigating elsewhere. When Felix tried to press Dimitri for more information on them, he just gave a stupid answer. _”They will explain everything when you meet them.”_

Yesterday is already a blur; Dimitri and Dedue gave Felix a thorough tour of their townhouse and the surrounding neighborhood. That is, after he finished speaking to a not-amused Glenn on the phone about his sudden departure. Luckily, Glenn believed his lie and did not press him any further.

Slowly, Felix is learning more about his old friend and his giant lapdog. Weirdly enough, Dedue seems gentle and housewife-ish despite his intense aura. Dimitri seems as awkward and bumbling as ever, which Felix supposes is okay. 

Felix, Dimitri, and Dedue are currently in the living room, awkwardly waiting for these two mysterious people to return. Dedue decided to start watering the potted plants that are nestled comfortably under the large paneled windows at the front of the room. Felix and Dimitri are sitting on opposite ends of a plush couch, completely silent. 

He can feel Dimitri’s inquisitive gaze boring into him, which is agitating.

“Stop that,” Felix snaps. “Did you forget all of your manners over the past decade?”

Dimitri immediately averts his gaze, feeling sheepish. “I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. I was just admiring how much you have changed. For all these years, I thought you would end up looking just like Glenn.”

Felix stiffens at the mention of Glenn. There are a lot of things in this world that he hates, but one of his biggest pet peeves is being compared to his brother. _Rodrigue_ has made it abundantly clear throughout his life that he will never be as good as Glenn. However, Felix could never hate his brother for the way that his father and everyone else treats him, because Glenn is one of the few people who actually treats Felix like a normal human being.

Felix's voice drips with venom. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not my brother."

Dimitri frowns. He is unsure of how he should speak or act around Felix. Throughout their childhood Felix always had a slightly snarky side, but he was never this closed off and abrasive. The last thing he wants is to alienate Felix, so he decides he will try to tread more carefully.

“Felix, I… I suppose I should just say that I am just happy that we have found each other. I could never be disappointed by you.”

Dimitri's honesty causes Felix to soften a little bit, but he is still guarded.

"Hmph. When are these two supposed to be getting back? I want to go for a run before it gets too hot outside."

"I would be happy to accompany you on your run so you can become better acquainted with the neighborhood," Dimitri says excitedly before making a point to check his phone. "Ah, they will be arriving shortly."

Something tells Felix that Dimitri wouldn't quite fare well running with him. It would definitely be a pain to wait for Dimitri, but it would probably be even more of a pain if he ended up getting lost in the middle of this cookie-cutter suburb where every building looks exactly the same.

"If you can't keep up with me, I'll leave you behind. Consider yourself warned."

Dimitri smiles enthusiastically, thrilled that Felix agreed to spend time with him. "Great! There is a nice trail not too far from here that I am sure you will like."

Dedue glares at Felix, issuing a silent warning to not cause harm to Dimitri. He still does not completely trust Felix, but he supposes that if Dimitri has faith in him that he should at least give Felix the benefit of the doubt.

Soon enough, the door to the apartment opens and the mysterious roommates enter.

Felix cocks an eyebrow as these two people gracefully saunter into the living room. The man is carrying a few bags, which he sets down by the wall without so much as acknowledging anyone in the room. He is tall, lean, and serious-looking. The woman trails behind him, greeting Felix and the others with an apologetic smile.

“You must be Felix. Dimitri has told us so much about you. It is a pleasure to finally be able to meet you.” The woman offers her hand to Felix, who begrudgingly shakes it. He notes that her grip is firm. That is enough to earn his respect.

“I’m Byleth Eisner,” the woman says matter-of-factly. “And the mannerless person who looks like me is brother, Bylad.”

Bylad appears next to his sister and nods, finally acknowledging Felix’s presence. “Nice to meet you.”

Bylad is a bit taller than Byleth, but both of them look like they know their way around a fight. Felix could tell just by observing their posture and mannerisms. 

Despite being twins, they each sport different colors in their hair. Byleth’s choppy shoulder-length hair is an ethereal mint-green, which perfectly complements her delicate features. Felix could see the faintest hint of teal blue at the roots of her hair, leading him to suspect that that blue is her natural hair color. Solidifying that hypothesis is Bylad’s hair, which is indeed a dark teal.

The twins seat themselves in the couch opposite Felix and Dimitri. 

Byleth places a hand on her chin thoughtfully as she observes the two men in front of her “Dimitri, I presume you have informed our new guest of our goals.”

He nods solemnly.

She smiles and directs her attention to Felix. “Our father was the head of the Church of Seiros Police Force for a long time. He retired when we were young, but he taught us many tricks over the years, which we have since honed. Bylad and I are happy to teach you what we know."

“We need to test his current skill level before we begin proper stealth and self-defense training,” Bylad says flatly as he scrutinizes Felix.

Having all of this attention on him so suddenly is making Felix uncomfortable. It was bad enough that he just had Dimitri gawking at him before, but now he has to deal with two total strangers which is arguably worse. He doesn’t like being stared at like some museum exhibit, so he subconsciously shifts to the side in a vain attempt at hiding himself from the twins’ intrusive gaze.

Dimitri speaks now in his dorkishly enthusiastic tone. “Well, Felix and I were planning on going for a run soon. If you two are not too fatigued, you can join us."

Great, even more company. Felix _is_ curious to see just what these two people can do--especially since Dimitri has been annoyingly cryptic about them. He’ll just have to deal with it.

Byleth's face lights up. "That would be great. It will be a fun bonding exercise!"

Bylad looks at Dimitri, his right eyebrow raising slightly. "_Are you sure you are ready for that, Dimitri?"_

"I have been diligently following your endurance training regimen to correct my deficits. I can handle this." Dimitri's eye burns with determination.

Felix just _knew_ that Dimitri wouldn’t be able to run for shit. Even when they were younger, Felix recalls Dimitri running out of breath after running a measly few blocks to the corner store by Ingrid’s house. Guess his stamina really hasn’t changed after all these years, despite the impressive amount of bulk that Dimitri had put on.

“Like I said, if you fall behind, you’re staying behind.” Felix crosses his arms over his chest, adding a sense of finality to his statement.

“Well, let’s get ready then,” Byleth says cheerfully as she jumps up from her seat. She then casts a slightly terrifying look at Dimitri. "If he falls behind, it is just another lesson that he will have to learn the hard way." Felix expected Bylad to be the overtly intimidating one, but it appears that there is much more to Byleth than meets the eye. Bylad attempts to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. “Dedue, you are welcome to join us as well.”

Dedue shakes his head. He knows that he would never be able to keep up with them. “Thank you for the invitation, but I shall stay behind and prepare lunch for us all. I beg you to please keep an eye on Sir Dimitri.”

Bylad reassures Dedue. “Don’t worry, we won’t abandon him in the middle of a hiking trail again.” He then looks at Dimitri, his brows furrowed once more. “I would also like to emphasize that neither of us prompted Dimitri to eat poison ivy--that was all on his own volition.”

Felix almost chokes on air. Dimitri actually _willingly consumed_ poison ivy, of all things? 

“Why the _fuck_ would you do something so stupid?”

Dimitri begins to sink in his seat, trying and failing to make himself appear smaller. His cheeks are bright red from embarrassment. “I was lost on the hiking trail because I could not keep up with the twins. It was getting dark and I did not have my phone with me. I decided as a survival maneuver that I would eat some of the local shrubbery so I would have the strength to continue searching for the way out. I remembered reading a blog article about the benefits of eating certain types of weeds, so with that in mind, I selected a healthy looking plant and consumed it.”

“We found him shortly after that,” Bylad adds. 

Byleth continues, trying her best to not laugh as she recalls the unfortunate (yet hilarious) situation.“His lips were so swollen that we couldn’t understand a single word he was saying. The rash was pretty bad on his hands, but luckily he did not suffer any major injuries from the plant, save a couple of weeks of intestinal distress that we all had to suffer through.”

“For the love of Sothis…” Felix mutters under his breath. He thinks he will be fine with the Eisner twins and even Dedue, but Dimitri’s sheer lack of awareness is making his head spin.

Byleth shares a look with Dedue. “Well now that we have established that Dimitri is _not_ to be left unattended, let’s get ready to go! We’re going to get changed, then we’ll meet you two back out here.”

Felix gets up, shooting one last disapproving look at Dimitri as he heads to his room to put on his running shoes. Something tells him that Byleth would most certainly abandon Dimitri on the hiking trail again, which he finds highly amusing. He wonders if Dedue actually believes her, or if he could also call her on her bluff. 

####  **25th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 18:24:59 **

After their magic training last night, the Golden Deer had agreed on a plan that should hopefully entice the other thieves to target the Gloucester Crest Stone next. Claude also received a surprisingly thorough progress report from Linhardt with regards to the magic training. 

According to Linhardt, Lysithea has shown quite some promise with mastering the magic techniques. With little instruction, she was able to cast basic spells. Marianne and Lorenz also caught on quickly. Ignatz shows promise, but is too unsure of himself, resulting in failed attempts to cast spells. Linhardt emphasized to Claude that he is not a cheerleader, so it is the leader’s duty to motivate and inspire the group. Claude decided that the next time they meet, he is going to bring the most obnoxious cheerleader gear he could find. Yellow pom-poms, megaphone, confetti, the whole shebang. He’s going to be the best damn cheerleader any of them have ever seen, thanks to Linhardt’s wonderful suggestion.

Unsurprisingly, Hilda does not seem to “understand” how to use magic, and Raphael and Caspar genuinely just don’t grasp the concept. Linhardt apparently didn’t have the patience to deal with them, so Hilda, Caspar, and Raphael ended up separating from the group to make jewelry--which Claude didn’t find out about until he heard all about it from an overly excited Caspar later in the evening.

The final note that Linhardt offered to Claude on the magic training was with regards to Sylvain. He did not engage much in the lesson, merely observing everyone else instead. Interesting. Claude wonders if Sylvain is merely holding out, or if the idea of magic is just too much for him to deal with. Either way, the cheerleader outfit should correct that problem.

Today, Claude spent the entirety of his time alone at the hideout drafting the key to their plan to lure the other thieves to the Gloucester stone. He still has a pile of work to do with regards to the security footage and the information gathered from their Miklan reconnaissance mission, but right now this project is taking priority. The other Golden Deer could not meet due to outside obligations, so he used this time alone to perfect what is needed to lure their adversaries and set up the proper channels. While Claude busied himself with this task, Caspar dragged an unwilling Sylvain out to train with him.

The roommates have all returned from their respective adventures and are eating the (slightly below) average dinner that Claude prepared at Caspar's request.

Sylvain takes a bite of the weird pasta...thing and furrows his brow. “You know Claude, for being so good at mixing weird potions, you sure suck at cooking.”

Upon hearing the insult to his carefully crafted dinner, Claude points his fork in accusation at Caspar. “Don’t you dare pin this on me. _He’s_ the one who made me cook this. I was just following the recipe, which was questionable at best.”

Caspar scoffs, nearly choking on his food in the process. “No way! It’s definitely your fault. This recipe is amazing. You’re just not good at following directions.”

Claude narrows his eyes at his best friend. Caspar has never before shown even the faintest of interest in fine dining. He just inhales whatever is in front of him without even pausing to taste it. 

His lips curl into a sly grin when his suspicions are confirmed. Caspar’s phone, which is haphazardly placed face-up on the table, just lit up with a notification. Claude can see that it is from a popular app where people post DIY crafts, hair and makeup trends, and _food recipes_. The same exact app that Hilda constantly talks about and spends 99% of her time on.

“You know, Hilda isn’t exactly a renowned culinary expert. If you’re trying to impress her by being her guinea pig, the least you could do is spare us from the torture.”

Caspar turns bright red. "H-hey that's not! I mean it's not- I…"

He sputters for a few seconds, trying to find the words he wants to say. His face is becoming more red by the second. "I want her to think I'm cool. I really like her."

Claude and Sylvain both feel a pang of pity for Caspar, who sounds and looks very uncharacteristically dejected.

After taking a sip of water in an attempt to wash away the terrible taste of dinner, Claude replies. "It's about time you admit you have feelings for her. I was beginning to wither away waiting for you to say something to me."

Sylvain chimes in, patting Caspar's shoulder in encouragement. "And lucky for you, there are two expert flirts in your presence who can help you convey your feelings."

Claude points his fork at Caspar. “You have obviously not picked up on any of her body language cues, but I have been diligently watching both of you for some time now. Somehow we are living in a universe where I think Hilda might _actually_ be interested in you."

He then pauses, waving his hand when Caspar's face lights up. "However, Hilda is the kind of person who wants to be swept off her feet. You aren't exactly the most romantic guy out there, so we need to figure out how to work with what you have."

Sylvain and Claude share a knowing look, most certainly having come to the same conclusion.

Claude continues, “Caspar, I think that we may have thought of a maneuver that will play up your roguish charm. If executed correctly, it will most certainly get Hilda to fall for you.”

Caspar has regained his usual vigor. "Wait, seriously? You guys will really help me with this?" 

"Who are we to deny a man in need?" Sylvain winks at Claude.

"Awesome! You two are the best! So uh, what exactly do I have to do?"

Claude knows that Caspar is completely inept at following verbal instruction. He both learns and expresses himself best with visual cues, which is why he thrives at his job as a personal trainer. 

He stands up, motioning for Sylvain to do the same.

A devilish smile finds its way onto Sylvain's face when he realizes what Claude has planned. He stands up and lazily stretches his arms behind his head. 

"Allow us to demonstrate," Claude says theatrically. "Pretend that I am Hilda and Sylvain is you."

He winks playfully at Sylvain as he speaks. Claude then saunters beside Sylvain and links arms with him--just like Hilda tends to do with her companions. They walk through the kitchen until they reach the far wall of the room. He un-links his arm with Sylvain and looks at him with large eyes, his back to the wall.

Claude speaks in a hilariously high-pitched, but very accurate impersonation of Hilda's voice. "Oh Caspar, thank you so much for walking back with me. I don't know what I'd do without a tough man like you to keep me safe."

Sylvain grins, trying his best to contain his laughter at Claude's impression. "I could never stand to let a pretty lady like you walk home all by yourself."

They lock eyes, feeling the electricity between them suddenly intensify.

Then, Sylvain executes the maneuver.

He smoothly moves forward, his hands meeting the wall on both sides of Claude's head with a light thud. 

Claude tilts his head up slightly, accommodating Sylvain's taller height.

Their foreheads touch. One of Claude's loose curls tickles Sylvain’s cheek. Time feels like it is slowing down as their breathing synchronizes.

Sylvain speaks huskily. "You know, you're the most breathtaking person I've ever laid eyes on."

_It's the truth_, he thinks in the back of his mind. 

Claude is the one to close the gap between them, hungry for the contact that he was denied a few weeks prior.

Sylvain's lips are soft. The kiss is gentle and chaste, but intimate enough that it leaves both Claude and Sylvain feeling intoxicated.

Caspar claps enthusiastically, effectively snapping the two back into reality. "Wow, you two made that look so easy! You really think that'll work on her if I do that?"

Claude is the first to speak, but in his Hilda voice. "Caspar, you're so dreamy. That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen in my life and it will _totally_ work if you do it again." 

Sylvain can feel his ears turning bright red from his encounter with Claude. He turns around to address Caspar, hoping Claude doesn't see how affected he actually is by their 'demonstration'. 

He also wonders what actually goes on in Caspar's head. The meathead is so focused on Hilda that he didn't even react to his two roommates actually kissing in front of him...

Now Sylvain speaks, willing his voice to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Dude, this is foolproof. Just don't crush her skull with your bare hands and you'll be fine. Oh, and make sure you brush your teeth. Bad breath is not attractive." 

Caspar nods and punches a fist in the air. "I think I got this down. Thanks for teaching me!” He looks thoughtfully at his two roommates, who have since put some distance between themselves. “By the way, does this secret move have a cool name?”

“Its name is too powerful for us mere mortals to know.” Claude says, now in his normal voice. 

Caspar makes a funny face, but seems to accept that answer. Claude often speaks cryptically like that, so he supposes he will just have to let it go. He then grabs his phone and happily makes his way to his room, presumably to text Hilda. "Seeya in the morning," he says as he speedwalks away.

Now, Claude and Sylvain are left to muse over each other, their lips still tingling from the earlier contact.

Sylvain turns to face Claude once again, donning his signature flirty smile. “I was so enchanting that you just had to make the first move, huh?”

“You put on quite the show. I couldn’t let you outperform me.” Claude is matter-of-fact, but there is an underlying flirtiness in his tone as well.

“You know,” an emboldened Sylvain says as he saunters closer to Claude. “They say the best performances are done when there is a real chemistry between the actors.”

Once again, they are standing very close to each other. Sylvain’s eyes search Claude’s for an affirmation--any sort of sign to tell him to continue.

Claude’s emerald eyes twinkle as he licks his lips. “So I’ve heard,” he replies in a breathy voice.

Without any further hesitation, Sylvain leans forward and meets Claude in another kiss. This time, they are less reserved. Sylvain’s left hand tangles itself in Claude’s soft curls, sending a small shiver down Claude’s spine. His other hand rests firmly on Claude's waist.

They become lost in each other, revelling in the way their lips perfectly meld together.

Claude’s hands wander to Sylvain’s very nice butt. Without warning he squeezes, thoroughly enjoying the surprised noise that Sylvain makes against his lips. 

While he is stunned, Claude takes the opportunity to bite Sylvain’s lower lip. Despite being the shorter of the two, Claude takes charge and deepens the kiss. Pliant, Sylvain allows Claude to do what he wishes.

Eventually, they pull apart, dizzy and gasping for breath.

“Man, you really play dirty,” Sylvain whispers hoarsely, his head spinning.

In response, the increasingly smug Claude angles his head so that his lips are hovering over Sylvain's ear. "I never said I would play fair," he whispers just before he lightly bites Sylvain's earlobe. He simultaneously slips his hands up Sylvain's shirt, ghosting them over the warm skin on the small of his back. Claude is testing Sylvain, trying to figure out what his body reacts the most to. So far, it seems like everything he has done had Sylvain reeling. It’s cute seeing the self-proclaimed casanova react so excitedly to such simple gestures, almost as if it were his first time being touched in such a way.

Sylvain is short-circuiting. Everything right now is Claude, Claude, Claude. His touch, his voice, his breath hot on his ear. His own hand, which was once tangled in Claude's hair, now lightly rests at the base of Claude's neck. He wants to pull him closer, to be completely consumed by him. He bites his lip in a weak effort to suppress a moan when Claude bites his ear.

Suddenly, Caspar's door opens. He re-emerges from his room, excitedly waving his phone as he runs down the hallway. As he enters the living room, he yells a jumble of incoherent words in an attempt to grab his friends’ attention.

Claude and Sylvain quickly remove themselves from each other and stare at their roommate like deer stuck in a car’s headlights, their chests heaving.

Caspar stares at them, a look of confusion now on his face.

"Uh, what're you still doing over there? Is everything okay? Were you two working out or something?" 

Claude replies, managing to sound completely unbothered. "Everything is just peachy, my friend. We were just here chatting about _chemistry_."

Caspar crinkles his nose. "Man, I really hated chemistry. Remember when I accidentally set the lab on fire our junior year?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It is still beyond me why the school thought it was okay to let you anywhere near explosive chemicals." Claude sighs. His heart is still racing.

Said fire hazard shakes his head. "Anyway! The reason I came out here again was to tell you that Hilda asked to go see a movie with me this weekend!"

Caspar is practically vibrating, he is so excited.

Finally cognisant of things in the world that are not Claude, Sylvain speaks, his voice slightly strained. "That's perfect. After the movie, you can execute _the move_."

"Yeah, I guess you're right! Things are all falling into place. Thanks you guys! I'm gonna go back to my room and do a couple sets of sit ups to pump myself up. Night!"

And once again Caspar speeds off, not even waiting for the others to respond to him. His level of obliviousness is almost comical.

Claude, still emboldened from the reactions he got out of Sylvain just moments prior, slowly takes off his shirt once he is sure Caspar is gone. "Well, I'm gonna go take a shower. Here's a souvenir for you."

He throws his balled-up shirt at Sylvain with a smirk on his face. Sylvain catches it reflexively as he gawks at Claude's now-bare chest. Before he could say anything, Claude saunters away. 

As he looks dumbly at the shirt in his hands, Sylvain realizes that he most certainly lost this round. He yielded to Claude’s ministrations almost too easily, which is completely unlike him. Usually Sylvain is the one to take the lead and revel in pleasuring his partner, not the other way around. Yeah, he thought it was really hot that Claude was so assertive, but he also wants to know what _he_ can do to make Claude come undone. 

This battle may have been lost, but the flirt-war is not over yet. If anything, Sylvain now has more resolve to gain the upper-hand. He _is_ going to find Claude’s weakness.

####  **25th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex // 22:03:12 **

Claude is on his bed, lying on his stomach as he looks at the tablet that he has connected to Gatekeeper. He decided a few minutes ago that he should probably do something productive rather than stare at the ceiling and replay the earlier events of the evening in his head. Despite the fact that he was able to have some fun with Sylvain, he is left feeling even more frustrated than ever. 

He is now looking at the security footage in Derdriu once again, picking up where he last left off at. The perfect distraction from his thoughts. Or at least that's what he's trying to tell himself as he blearily passes through the low-res footage.

The timestamp reads close to midnight. 

Claude has managed to pinpoint the van, but it is still barely visible in the frame. He searches the footage for any sign of movement.

Finally, he sees something. Excited, he sits up and places the tablet in his lap. His still-damp hair falls into his eyes, which he haphazardly pushes back with his hand.

On the screen, a large, hooded man appears to be holding something over someone else’s face as he pushes them towards the van.

Well this is interesting. The van people appear to be stealing a person, not a crest stone.

Claude pauses the frame and tries to focus on the two individuals.

“Dammit,” he hisses under his breath when he ends up with with horribly pixelated images. He messes around with the image for a few minutes, trying his best to improve the resolution and obtain some identifying features.

He can’t get a face on the hooded figure. They are too well-hidden. However, they appear to be freakishly tall so that may be useful in finding a suspect. Claude does manage to clear up the upper portion of the other person’s face, to his relief.

He tries to run the image through Gatekeeper's database.

The tablet crashes.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Claude groans as he sets the tablet down beside him. He is finally on to something, and his tablet decides that now of all times it is going to refuse to cooperate. Then again, if this is a kidnapping would these even be the people that he is looking for, or just a coincidental crime?

Despite rebooting the machine several times, Claude can’t get his tablet to reconnect to Gatekeeper. He really didn’t want to spend any more money on this, but it looks like he’s going to have to buy better parts for the tablet so it could handle connecting to Gatekeeper. He really, _really_ hopes that he didn't lose any data.

Defeated, he decides to just try to go to sleep.

####  **26th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Aegir Enterprises: Merceus Branch // 12:03:12 **

The old blueprint that Ferdinand pocketed from his father's office a few days earlier unfortunately only raised more questions for him. He did not expect (or hope) to find any damning information, but the contents of the paper have prompted him to investigate further.

The paper itself is dog-eared and quite aged. Ferdinand does not recognize the building outlined in the blueprints, nor does he recognize the text at the top of the paper. It looks familiar and uses the same alphabet, but it definitely isn't the dialect that he and everyone else in Fódlan speaks. This now leads him to his first set questions: does this building still exist? Ferdinand recognizes that it shares similar structural features to older buildings in Fódlan, which also leads him to believe that the writing is an old Fódlandic dialect. Why would his father need record of such a building? Was it simply a building that his company had demolished or renovated? But why would he keep such a cursory thing in his study of all places instead of with the company records?

On the back of the blueprint, a string of cryptic numbers is scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting. 

_12476.41285._

Underneath the numbers is some sort of script in an unfamiliar alphabet. It is definitely not the same language as the title on the front of the paper. This is really quite troublesome. 

This new note brings him to his next set of questions: what do these numbers represent? Also, who wrote this note? Are they somehow related to Aegir Enterprises? Can his father read the language that this note is written in?

...and why exactly _does_ his father need this information?

This is proving to be quite vexing. Ferdinand spent the majority of his workday attempting to gather more information through company records. He tried to get more information about this mysterious building as conspicuously as possible, but he does not want to risk raising the suspicions of anyone in Aegir Enterprises. If his father found out that he was sneaking around in his study, he would surely be in big trouble. It has been made very clear in the past that Ferdinand--or anyone else for that matter-- is not allowed in that room. He also feels a sense of urgency, because he needs to return this paper before his father realizes that it is missing. 

The one certainty that Ferdinand has is that this building is very old. If there is anyone who could give him more information on a historic piece of Fódlan, it is his friend and former college roommate, Linhardt. Ferdinand recalls that Linhardt is continuing his studies in a graduate program at their university, so it will be nice to catch up with his friend and see the campus again.

Ferdinand decides that he is going to pay his friend a visit. There's no way he'll refuse to look at a piece of history!

He carefully hides the blueprint in his padfolio. He is to be at a lunch meeting with company shareholders at precisely 12:30. Ferdinand von Aegir is never late to his commitments and always shows up as prepared as humanly possible. Today is no exception, despite the heavy thoughts weighing his mind. He has just about thirty minutes to prepare for this meeting. Then, he can focus on reaching out to Linhardt. Hopefully he won't be too busy with his schoolwork. 

####  **27th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Enbarr Collegetown Housing // 19:53:11 **

Linhardt has finally recovered from the dreadfully draining magic lessons that he was forced to lead a few days ago. As soon as he set foot in his apartment, he curled up on his couch and fell asleep. He vaguely remembers getting up for a bathroom break a few times and eating some random food in his fridge. He didn't fully wake up until a few minutes ago, which was thanks to the beginning of a rowdy party in the apartment above him.

Sighing, he grabs his (dead) phone and fumbles with the charging cord. He lets his phone charge while he prepares himself a proper meal: stovetop macaroni and cheese.

He eats in relative silence, only the sound of the deep bass and incoherent chatter above him filling the room.

From across the room, he sees the screen on his phone come back to life. Linhardt is dreading the thought of checking his school email and whatever texts he missed. It's all so tiresome, keeping up with everyone and everything electronically. 

He prolongs his meal, just so he could avoid looking at his phone for a little while longer.

After staring at his plate and dozing off for another twenty minutes or so, Linhardt finally decides that he should tend to his notifications. He finds his trusty noise cancelling headphones and plugs them into his phone, hoping that his classical music playlist will drown out the debauchery happening above him.

Luckily, Linhardt finds that he does not have very many texts to sift through. The Golden Deer chat has been quite active, but he decides he will save looking at that for tomorrow. What stands out to him now, however, is a random string of increasingly desperate texts from his old roommate Ferdinand that started around yesterday afternoon.

> [Ferdinand Von Aegir] Hello, my friend! I hope that all is well with your studies. Would you by any chance be able to spare some of your time to look at something for me? It appears to be within your area of expertise.
> 
> [Ferdinand Von Aegir] I would also like to add that I am also writing because I want to spend some time with you to catch up and see how you are doing.
> 
> [Ferdinand Von Aegir] I apologise if I offended you with my sudden intrusion. I understand that you are busy and must not have time to entertain outside things.
> 
> [Ferdinand Von Aegir] I hope that all is well. Take care of yourself.  
[Ferdinand Von Aegir] But if you want I can stop by with your favorite takeout.  


  


Linhardt suppresses a chuckle at the image of Ferdinand frantically sending these messages throughout the day, fretting over what he should say. He kind of feels bad for not seeing this sooner, but there's nothing he could do about it now. He really doesn't have the time to help out his old friend, especially now with his new responsibilities within the Golden Deer. He wants to prioritize translating the Creator's Compendium over everything else, because he is desperate to know the contents of such a fabled book.

He stares at the texts, frowning as he thinks of how he should respond, or if he should respond at all.

Then, a call comes through.

Unsurprisingly, it's Ferdinand.

With a sigh, Linhardt answers the call. At least now he doesn't have to go through the hassle of writing a response out.

"Yes, Ferdinand?"

"Oh! Uh, hello Linhardt. I wasn't expecting you to pick up so quickly. Or at all, for that matter."

A loud thud reverberates from the ceiling, causing Linhardt to cringe. He really hates living in this place. 

“You just happened to catch me at a good time, I suppose.” Linhardt really doesn’t want to entertain Ferdinand’s request, so he is going to just...not bring it up and hope that Ferdinand doesn't say anything. 

“I’m glad! Is everything okay? I heard a loud noise just now. You’re not in any danger, are you?”

“Not at the present moment, at least. It’s just my inconsiderate neighbors throwing a party above me.”

Linhardt sighs. The longer he is forced to listen to the party, the more his head is beginning to throb.

“I am glad to hear that you are okay, but it is concerning that these students are throwing such a raucous party on a Wednesday night…” Ferdinand pauses for a moment, then continues when Linhardt doesn’t say anything.

“Well, listen Linhardt. I found a blueprint for an old building and there are some interesting things on it that I would like to investigate. Unfortunately, I am not equipped to delve into such topics on my own. I was wondering if you could take a look at them and point me in the right direction. I know that you must be very busy with your graduate studies and all, but it would really mean a lot to me-”

Linhardt really regrets answering this call. Honestly, it was just wishful thinking for him to believe that Ferdinand would not say anything. Linhardt very well knows that his former roommate is stubborn and highly motivated, so there really is no way for him to get out of this.

“Fine, I’ll look at it.”

Ferdinand sounds so sincere and determined. Whatever he wants to investigate, it must be important to him. So the effort on it won’t be in vain, Linhardt supposes.

“-and I would really appreciate it if you… Wait. Really? Linhardt, you truly are a great friend! Despite your slothful tendencies, you truly are diligent underneath it all. I have the utmost respect for you.”

“I am going to pretend that I did not just hear you insult me. I don’t guarantee that I will be of any help, but feel free to come find me on campus tomorrow. I’ll probably be in my usual spot.”

“I shall do just that, Linhardt. Thank you once again! I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Ferdinand hangs up. Drained from the interaction, Linhardt flops back on the couch and attempts to go back to sleep, this time with his headphones on. He is going to need a lot of energy to deal with whatever Ferdinand has waiting for him tomorrow.

####  **28th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Saint Seiros University: Enbarr Campus // 11:20:41 **

Ferdinand managed to sneak away from his duties at Aegir Enterprises to pay a visit to Linhardt. He made sure to pick up Linhardt's favorite takeout on the way, as an offering of gratitude. He is excited to finally receive some sort of answer to the questions that have been plaguing him, and hopefully find closure for what has been bothering him so deeply.

He is doing this for Ingrid’s sake…so he could proudly stand by her side going forward. 

Even though it has not been that long since he has graduated, Ferdinand feels like the SSU campus has changed quite a bit. There is definitely more activity, and the common areas have been refurnished with more modern décor.

Just like their college days, Ferdinand finds himself on a more familiar path to the history department's private study area. As expected, he spots Linhardt tucked away in his corner table, dozing over a large pile of papers.

"Linhardt, it is quite good to see you! It seems that things haven't changed much since our undergrad days, have they?" 

"Oh, it's you." Linhardt yawns and points to the chair next to him, encouraging Ferdinand to sit down. "Surprisingly, I get less work done now than I did before with you constantly coming in to bother me."

Ferdinand accepts the seat and pouts. "I was just doing my duty as your friend to make sure that you were taking care of yourself. I even brought you food, because I know you must not have eaten anything yet today." He then sets the food in front of Linhardt. "Maybe I'll have to start coming back here again to make sure you are okay."

Linhardt twitches. The last thing he needs is his nosy friend figuring out what he is up to with the Golden Deer. That would be bad.

"I'd rather you not…"

Seemingly not hearing what Linhardt had just muttered, Ferdinand opts to pull out a padfolio. He carefully takes out the paper and presents it to Linhardt.

"Anyway, here is the paper I told you about. There is some strange writing on the front and back, both in different languages, it appears."

Linhardt takes the paper and examines it closely. He recognizes the classic architecture specific to the mid-1300s.

"This building was a product of a major art and cultural renaissance period in Fódlan. The dialect of our language that was spoken back then was a bit different than what we speak today, but it was from this cultural movement that our language has evolved into what it is now."

"Fascinating! I knew you would be the right person to ask about this. Can you tell me about the title on the top of the page, or perhaps what a building like this was used for?"

"Hmm… The title says 'Eastern Church.' It was very common during this period for new churches to be built in such a grand style. It was meant to draw more people to the teachings of Seiros. These satellite churches all followed the guidelines set by the clergy and the Archbishop at the Central Church in Garreg Mach."

"Eastern Church, huh? So this is probably a cathedral of some sort in what is now Leicester land. This is very helpful information! There is also something written on the back. I would be very impressed if you could offer some insight for it as well."

Ferdinand looks expectantly at Linhardt, who takes a moment to recuperate before flipping the paper.

Linhardt focuses first on the numbers scrawled on the middle of the page. 12476.41285.

Why do they seem so familiar…? He furrows his brow as he tries to think of a way to crack this code. Underneath the numbers is a word in a language that Linhardt certainly does not recognize. It doesn't use the alphabets of any of Fódlan's neighboring countries as far as he could tell, so the only two possible explanations are that the language is either from a very far away land, or it is an artificial language.

It is most likely an artificial language, meant to be a code of some sort. This is quite puzzling.

"Can I take a picture of this, Ferdinand? I'd like to come back to this later."

"But of course! I appreciate you doing this for me. You have been very helpful."

Linhardt takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the front and the back of the blueprint. Something tells him that he may find some useful information in the future that could help with the Golden Deer by looking further into this old cathedral. There may be some more lore about the mysterious door that is waiting to be uncovered.

As he puts his phone down, he stares at the numbers once again.

12476…

"Ferdinand?"

"What is the matter?"

"Where did you find this?" Linhardt focuses his deep blue eyes on his companion, suddenly becoming much more serious.

Ferdinand fidgets and averts his gaze, which is what he typically does when he is about to lie or deflect a question. 

"I...can't say."

Linhardt huffs. "Then I won't tell you what I just figured out. Though honestly, it really is quite obvious what they represent."

"Please, you just have to tell me! I need to know what it means so I can have my peace of mind."

Ferdinand's lip is trembling. Linhardt could see the turmoil in his eyes. This meeting really is taking an unexpected turn, but now he is fully invested. This note is very cryptic, and very worrisome.

"Ugh, fine I'll spell it out for you. They're _dates_. Surely you can recognize the significance of the day 4-12-76?"

Ferdinand's stomach drops.

"The day of the tragedy…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya!! thank you for your continued support with this fic!💖 I am sorry that this update took a bit longer to get out. a lot of life events have happened recently and I wanted to take the time to get this chapter to where I wanted it to be. I hope you enjoyed the ~true~ claudevain action in this chapter B) 
> 
> I appreciate your feedback! I'm not going to put the codenames here because they weren't mentioned in this chapter.
> 
> (come say hi to me on twitter!! @rosesandthorons)


	8. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ferdinand takes on a huge burden, claude goes to the gym to blow off some steam, caspar finds a really great outfit for his first date, sylvain finally scores a point in the great flirt war, and felix is jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my Caspar and Hilda are a really great and underappreciated ship ted talk

####  **28th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Saint Seiros University- Enbarr Campus // 11:35:22 **

“The day of the tragedy…”

Ferdinand feels defeated. This date is enough for him to accept that his father may be involved in some way in the events of that day after all. It would also explain why he would keep this blueprint in his private study, rather than with the company records.

Linhardt breaks Ferdinand out of his spiraling thoughts. “It is one thing to write the date of what is considered the most infamous day in the modern history of Fódlan, but it is a bit more concerning to write it next to a date that has yet to happen.” The scholar points to the other date on the page. “If my intuition is correct, this note is forecasting that _something_ is going to happen on the twelfth day of the Ethereal Moon.”

Linhardt doesn’t fill in the blanks this time, because Ferdinand knows. He knows that this date is most likely forecasting something just as terrible—if not worse— than the Blaiddyd-Duscur Tragedy. This revelation is much more sinister than he could have ever anticipated.

However, this conclusion is assuming that his father actually had something to do with the tragedy to begin with. This note could still end up being merely coincidental. But Ferdinand needs more facts. 

There is also one important thing that Ferdinand did not account for in his desperation for an answer: implicating Linhardt.

Any normal person would be concerned at such an ominous note, and Ferdinand vainly hopes that Linhardt, a very not normal person, would not be moved by such a thing. However, Ferdinand can see a familiar glint in Linhardt’s eyes. It’s the same sparkle that shines when Linhardt finds something that fascinates him. However, there is also something different there. Determination? Concern? Fear? It is hard for Ferdinand to pinpoint exactly what emotions his friend is feeling, because they are very uncharacteristic of the usually-apathetic man.

Ferdinand can’t get anyone else involved in this— especially not his friend. He cannot believe that he was so naive. So irresponsible.

“I am certain that we do not need to worry about anything, Linhardt. This note was is most likely a prank of some sort.”

A prank… Ferdinand wishes that was the case. He needs to think of something to get Linhardt off of his trail, and fast!

Linhardt narrows his eyes and speaks with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “Ferdinand, are you really trying to play me for a fool? You should know that I don't fall for such things so easily.”

“I do not mean any harm to you, my friend. I assure you that this is nothing for you to worry about. The company has been receiving empty threats like this for years now.” He tries his best to look sheepish and steels himself for the lie he is about to tell. “My father’s company and the police have already investigated this thoroughly and declared the note harmless. I am not involved in company investigations, so I do not know what the details of their findings are. I was just being childish because I am fascinated by the old building and the foreign language. However, I could not merely ask my father for such information if it were for such a trivial and selfish reason.”

Linhardt’s stern gaze softens a little. “Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

“Why should I bog you down with irrelevant information? I know that you are busy and I did not want to add any more extraneous details that would take up more of your time.”

The longer this conversation is going, the more guilty Ferdinand is feeling. He hates that he has to lie to his friend like this. He hates that he is going to have to lie to his father to get to the truth. His sense of duty to the people of Fódlan far outweighs his sense of duty to his father at this point. As the heir to a company that has played an integral role in the development of the country, Ferdinand feels obliged to preserve the safety of his compatriots.

“I believe that I have stolen enough of your time. I too must be getting back to work. Thank you for indulging me. Perhaps I shall make another visit in the future to make sure you are being diligent with your thesis work.” He smiles at Linhardt as he stands up. Linhardt rests his head on the desk and looks up at Ferdinand with fatigued eyes.

“Goodbye, Ferdinand.”

Ferdinand just needs to continue being the diligent son that he has strived to be for the entirety of his life. He cannot let his father suspect that he knows anything. If Ferdinand continues with his exemplary performance in the company, he will further bolster his father’s trust. That trust will help him conduct his covert investigations of his father and the company, and allow him to figure out what is going to happen at the end of this year.

As he walks to his car, he looks at the lock screen of his phone. It is the most recent selfie that Ingrid took of them. They had gotten street food and were wandering the bustling shopping district just outside of Garreg Mach. Ingrid had pulled him aside and asked for a selfie, despite him not having finished his teutates fishcake. Ingrid plucked his phone out of his hand and excitedly posed for the selfie. While Ferdinand’s guard was down, she took a large bite from the fishcake in his hand. The image captured shows Ingrid triumphantly chewing the fishcake, while Ferdinand looks at her in surprise. It isn’t the most dignified picture, but Ferdinand can’t help but be fond of it.

Ferdinand has a little less than seven months to figure out this note and prevent whatever is slated to happen. For everyone’s future, he must do this.

####  **26th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 7:15:31 **

Claude tossed and turned restlessly for the majority of the night, finally deciding that he had enough when it was close to 5:30 in the morning. 

Claude had too much pent-up energy, so he decided that he would go to the gym and do one of the lighter workout routines that Caspar had outlined for him. He snuck out of the apartment with ease; Caspar and Sylvain are both heavy sleepers, apparently.

So much has happened within the past few months that he has never really allowed himself the time to process it all. He feels immensely guilty for allowing the other thieves to get so far ahead of the Golden Deer. Then there is the encounter with his family, which also caught him off-guard. As the leader of the group, Claude can't afford to show any insecurity or weakness. He needs to be the pillar of strength for the Golden Deer. Another interesting thought niggling the back of his mind is his relationship with Sylvain and what it all means. Claude should be feeling more confident after yesterday’s events, but he can’t help but doubt himself. Is it wrong for him to want someone like Sylvain? Is he being too selfish? More importantly, Sylvain could have anyone he wants with his looks. What does he see in Claude?

He vents his frustrations at the deadlift, adding more and more weight to the bars as his thoughts spiral deeper. This is the price that he has to pay for having such an active and scheming mind; he can also easily become shackled by his wandering thoughts. Over the years he has learned to mute his unwanted thoughts through meditation, but he hasn’t had a quiet moment to himself for a while now.

The intense workout serves as a decent replacement for his typical meditation routine and eventually clears the unpleasant thoughts from Claude's mind--for now, at least. After freshening up in the pristine gym shower, Claude heads to the Golden Deer hideout with two important goals. Due to the sudden dysfunctioning of his tablet last night, Claude decides it would be best for him to look at the security footage on Gatekeeper’s main hard drive as soon as possible. Once he finishes, he can set the plan to lure the other group to the Gloucester Crest Stone into motion.

Now, coffee in hand, he sifts through the long list of files stored on Gatekeeper for the Derdriu surveillance footage.

“Hey Gatekeeper, can you also pull up the most recent crash report?”

“Sure thing, Sherlock! I have retrieved the most recent report, which was generated at 10:05 PM last night.”

Claude’s eyes scan the crash report. Near the end, he sees exactly what he was hoping he wouldn’t.

**MP4 FILES CORRUPTED. CLOUD BACKUP AND RESTORATION UNSUCCESSFUL.**

Okay, this is just a minor inconvenience, but everything will be okay.

“Gatekeeper, can you get the data from the street cameras around Riegan Manor from the night of the 17th again?”

“Roger!”

Claude anxiously awaits Gatekeeper. He can’t believe that his stupid tablet managed to corrupt all of the files beyond repair, even the ones that were backed up.

He’s going to have to pore over his code for the remote Gatekeeper program and make some major improvements to it. This is what he gets for trying to rush the code so he could work from home.

“My apologies, Sherlock. It appears that the files that you are looking for do not exist."

_No way._

"That can't be right. Check again. Make sure to cross-reference the search with police records from that night as well."

Claude knows that a formal report was not filed for these mysterious van people, but they were at least on the radar of the Seiros Police Force. If he's lucky, they will have made a note in the case file for the Riegan Crest Stone about the mysterious van. It is possible that they obtained the data from the surveillance cameras as well.

"Searching now, Sherlock!"

There is also a possibility that a missing persons report was filed for that person that was shoved into the van, Claude realizes. That might also give him some clues. Claude can still vividly picture the face of the person that was kidnapped. Whoever they are, he hopes that they are okay...

“Gatekeeper, while you’re at it pull up all of the missing persons reports filed after the 17th.”

While waiting for Gatekeeper to retrieve the data he wants, Claude stands up and begins to pace the room. 

Despite the support and admiration from his teammates, Claude still can’t help but feel shaken at the losses that the team has suffered. He should have been able to stop the Riegan Crest Stone from being taken from under his nose. He definitely should not have been so careless with his coding in a hasty attempt to get ahead of these other thieves. 

He’s being sloppy and nearsighted. If this kidnapping is truly connected to those other thieves, then real lives are now at stake in this scheme. Claude can’t afford to make any more mistakes. 

“Now displaying the search results, Sherlock.”

Claude returns to his seat and looks at the data Gatekeeper pulled up. 

Figures. The surveillance videos are nowhere to be found— most likely tampered with. The Seiros Police Force digital files have no record of this report whatsoever. These van people must also have someone who is adept at hacking and wanted to cover their tracks. Claude is more convinced that these are not merely some small-time criminals committing a random kidnapping. They are most likely the other thieves, and Claude lost the one lead he had on their identities. Once again, they managed to be one step ahead of him.

Feeling defeated, Claude moves on to the missing persons reports. He supposes that it is a good thing that not many have been filed since the 17th, but none of the people in these reports match the image of the person that he saw on the surveillance footage. 

Miserably, he wonders how differently things would have played out if the Eisner twins were still around. He heaves a sigh and closes his eyes, letting his thoughts wander to the twins.

* * *

__

__

####  **6th day of the Verdant Moon, 2078 // Eisner Residence // 17:36:02 **

__

_It’s nearing the end summer break between his sophomore and junior year of high school. The Eisner twins have graduated just a few months prior, leaving the other members of the fledgling Golden Deer group to wonder if their ideas will really become a reality after all. _

_Sure, Claude is the face of the group and the one that has brought everyone together with his charisma, but the Eisner twins are the glue. It was unthinkable, spending their school days scheming without the twins to offer their input and guidance. They’re going to college and assuming adult responsibilities, so the Golden Deer fear that they will be forgotten by the people that they are depending on the most to grow. Claude decides to confront the twins to address the group’s fears._

_That is what leads Claude to having tea with Bylad in the twins’ quaint, yet quiet home. Since their father went missing a few years ago, they have been living with their father’s sister. Byleth is out running errands with her aunt, to Claude’s relief. He can have a much more productive conversation with Bylad. Despite Bylad being a man of few words, he is always pleasant to talk to. The topic naturally shifts to the Golden Deer after a few minutes._

_“Claude, we want this future just as much as you do, and we will do anything in our power to make sure it happens.” Bylad pauses to take a sip of his tea. _

_The earthy scent of Almyran pine needles is suddenly oppressive to Claude._

_“You also have to accept that there may come a day that you will have to lead the group on your own. We may end up dealing with very dangerous people, so anything could happen. Our first priority is to make sure that the rest of you are safe.”_

_Childishly, Claude screws his eyes shut, thinking if he isn’t looking then he won’t have to accept the reality of being left behind by the people who mean the most to him._

_“If you two aren’t around to guide the Golden Deer, then what is left for us to believe in?”_

_Bylad can sense Claude’s hesitation and self-doubt. He knows that Claude is not one to openly discuss his insecurities._

_“Here’s something to believe in.”_

_After what felt like an eternity of silence, Claude gingerly opens his eyes. He is greeted with Bylad’s intense gaze. More importantly, Claude sees that the serious twin is steadfastly pointing a finger directly at Claude._

_Claude blinks, taking a moment to process what Bylad is telling him._

_“Some days will be harder than others. There will be times that you will feel inadequate and defeated. You can’t let those feelings rule you. Believe in yourself. Believe in the trust that you have forged with your friends. Believe in the future."_

_Bylad rests his hands on his lap, maintaining eye contact with Claude. His expression is serious, but gentle._

_“Your failures don’t define you.”_

* * *

“Your failures don’t define you...” Claude mutters to himself. Bylad was absolutely right. Claude needs to keep looking forward. He didn’t quite appreciate what Bylad had said all those years ago. He merely filed them away in the ‘cool things the twins say' part of his brain. Now, he is having a dazzling moment of clarity.

He can’t lose sight of the things that matter the most to him.

Since the Eisner twins left, Claude never quite gave himself the credit that he deserves. He was so focused on the loss of the twins that he made himself blind to his own growth. He forgot that the twins saw his potential all along. They believe that he is doing the right thing-- that he is capable. If they didn't think he was fit to lead the Golden Deer, they wouldn't have left it to him.

Wherever they are, they still believe in him.

Their dream isn’t lost yet. Claude is going to have to double down his efforts to figure out these thieves. There is no use ruminating over this lost data any longer. He is going to unmask these thieves once and for all.

With new resolve, Claude looks at the work he has done to lure out these mysterious people. He will make sure that everything is bulletproof before setting it into motion. He also has a lot of data processing that still needs to be done from their intelligence gathering on Miklan. 

After that, he has to figure out how to make his tablet compatible with Gatekeeper _and_ find a top-notch cheerleader outfit to boost the morale of his beloved deer. (Secretly, he just wants to get under Sylvain’s skin more. He can’t stop thinking about the way Sylvain had looked at him the other night and wants to get that reaction out of him again, despite the more reasonable thoughts in his head telling him to stop this dangerous game.)

He is going to have quite the busy week ahead of him.

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Derdriu Apartment Complex// 10:47:12 **

Linhardt had texted Claude late last night asking to meet at the hideout as soon as possible.

This worries Claude, because Linhardt does not seem like the type of person to want to suddenly meet about something. 

Today is also the day of Caspar's date with Hilda. In the sparse times this week that Claude has seen his roommates, he has noticed that Caspar has become progressively more nervous. He was planning on staying at the apartment today to support Caspar, but he fears that whatever Linhardt has to say is too important to wait. 

Claude is preparing to meet with Linhardt, who will call when his train is close to the Derdriu Station. In the meantime, he is lazing in the apartment for the first time in what feels like an eternity. 

Also, he finally has the chance to speak face-to-face with Sylvain for the first time since their ‘demonstration'.

Caspar is holed up in his room, presumably trying to find appropriate clothes for later, leaving him and Sylvain in the kitchen to eat their breakfast in relative peace. 

Relative being the key word. 

Sylvain inspects Claude’s face, looking deeply pensive. He then reaches across the table and pinches Claude’s cheek.

“Just making sure you’re not an illusion,” Sylvain says in a serious tone. The faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrays his tone.

Claude playfully sticks his tongue out when Sylvain removes his hand. “I know my good looks make it hard to believe that I’m real. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“I guess I do,” Sylvain hums.

They continue to eat, exchanging charged banter all the while.

When Claude gets up to put his plate in the sink, he senses that Sylvain had followed him. Before he could turn around, he feels the warmth of Sylvain’s body pressed against his back. Sylvain rests his head on Claude’s shoulder and casually hums a tune. His arm reaches around Claude to gently place his own dish in the sink.

Claude is speechless. He could feel Sylvain’s breath tickling his neck. He could smell his cologne, which has earthy undertones with a hint of citrus. He didn’t expect Sylvain to invade his personal space so boldly. Claude supposes he has earned this, thanks to his previous bold behavior.

“Don’t mind me-- just tidying up.” Claude could feel Sylvain’s face pull into a smirk. After he places his plate in the sink, Sylvain smoothly removes himself from Claude’s personal space.

Claude’s head feels like it is filled with fog. He tries to grasp at words for a response--anything to put himself back in control-- but, for the first time in his life, comes up blank. Finally, he turns around to face Sylvain, who is smiling innocently at him.

“You--”

Just as he is about to say something (which was probably going to be stupid), his phone rings. He has never been so grateful to receive a call in his life. As nonchalantly as possible, Claude answers the phone.

“I’ll be there in five. Let’s meet separately, but make sure there aren’t any eyes on you as you approach.”

Linhardt yawns obnoxiously over the phone. “Sure thing. See you soon.”

After he hangs up, Claude forces himself to look at Sylvain, who is still smiling innocently. 

“Going so soon? Things were just starting to get interesting here.” Sylvain stretches lazily, resting his arms behind his neck.

“Trust me, I want to see Caspar off just as much as you do, but Linhardt has something important to show me. Don’t say anything about this to Caspar; he doesn’t need any more stress right now.” Claude grabs his keys from the table. “Your job is to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Got it, boss” Sylvain says with a smirk. He knows that Claude is trying to irritate him by changing the conversation topic to Caspar. That means that Claude is most definitely affected by Sylvain’s sink stunt. He will count this as a small victory.

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout// 11:11:57 **

Claude is seated in front of Gatekeeper, which is proudly displaying his handiwork from earlier in the week. The anonymous articles that he planted across social media are now making national headlines. All eyes are on the Gloucester name now, so if his plan works then the thieves will come after their stone in no time. 

Soon enough, Gatekeeper announces Linhardt's arrival. Claude makes his way to the entrance to greet his companion. He tries to gauge Linhardt's attitude by his expression, but the scholar seems just like his usual nonchalant (and very sleepy) self.

"Welcome back, my friend. It seems that you have gotten quite a bit of beauty sleep in since we last met."

Linhardt is not amused by Claude's attempt at a joke. He merely clicks his tongue in response and gestures down the hall to the meeting room. The pair walks to the room in tense silence and seat themselves at the roundtable. 

"I have some photos that you need to see," Linhardt says as he pulls out his phone and finds the pictures that he took of the map that Ferdinand brought to him. "As well as some disturbing interpretations that I have gleaned from them. After that, I was hoping to spend the day with the Creator's Compendium."

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // South Deirdru Apartment Complex // 17:42:10 **

This past week has felt like centuries to Caspar. He tried his best to keep himself busy with his clients, but he still comes home with an abundance of energy that he needs to blow off. Claude has been busy with Golden Deer stuff all week, going off on his own to make sure that the next scheme goes smoothly. Apparently that has mostly included staring at surveillance footage nonstop. Caspar doesn’t really ask about the details of what Claude does, because it just goes right over his head. 

Sylvain spent a lot of his time training with him and Raphael, which Caspar thinks is awesome. What Caspar thinks is even cooler is that he has been able to spend a lot of time with Sylvain after training to learn more about the art of flirting from a true expert. Sylvain has seemed a bit restless this week--especially without Claude around to play those mind-numbing board games with him. So Caspar made sure to keep Sylvain busy instead!

He has a really great outfit planned for today. Hilda loves fashion, so he doesn’t want to disappoint her by not dressing well. He loves sports and he knows that Hilda likes people who are athletic, so he has a shirt that flaunts his awesomeness, athleticism, and love for sports! It is a red jersey t-shirt with basketball print on the shoulders. Emblazoned on the front is COOL DUDE in bold font. He has matching red shorts that go with it, as well as sweatbands and a snapback, for added pizzazz. Hilda always emphasizes the importance of accessories, so he made sure to keep this in mind when crafting his look. 

When he enters the living room in his date outfit, Sylvain makes a pained noise.

“Dude, no.”

“No what?”

“_That_,” Sylvain says emphatically as he gestures to Caspar’s clothes. He is truly at a loss for words. Caspar simultaneously looks like a kindergartener and some character from a bad basketball musical.

Caspar crosses his arms defensively and glares at Sylvain. “There is nothing wrong with this look. If anyone says otherwise, I’ll beat them up.”

Sylvain shakes his head. “Caspar, as both your friend and date coach, I can’t let you leave the apartment in that. Hilda _will_ die, and then her scary brother _will_ kill you. I can’t have the blood of both you and Hilda on my conscience.”

Caspar sputters indignantly for a few moments before reconsidering what Sylvain says. He has been training Caspar in the art of flirting all week, so he should probably listen to what Sylvain says. Also, he will not deny that Holst is just a little bit terrifying. “Ugh, fine. How do you think I should dress, then?”

“Well, I need to see what you have. Please tell me you own more than just athletic wear and whatever that is you have on now.”

Caspar leads Sylvain into his room, which to Sylvain’s horror is an absolute pigsty. Unsurprisingly, Caspar’s closet is also a mess. Somehow, Sylvain manages to find a nice, but very wrinkled pale red polo shirt and an acceptable pair of khaki shorts.

“Let me work my magic,” Sylvain says with a wink as he takes Caspar’s clothes to his own room. Caspar watches in awe as Sylvain perfectly irons his clothes and sprays them with some sort of fabric freshener. He carefully hands the clothes back to Caspar. “Now go put them on-- and be careful not to wrinkle them again.”

With an enthusiastic nod, Caspar rushes back to his room to put on his new outfit. He re-enters the living room, where Sylvain now nods in approval.

“I have one final touch for you.” The master flirt walks up to Caspar with a small bottle of cologne. “It is my secret weapon. Some strategically-sprayed cologne will be sure to get her attention.”

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Greater Derdriu Cinema Center // 19:18:52 **

Caspar is walking side-by-side with Hilda into the cinema complex. He really wants to take her hand or something, like people do on dates on TV. However, Sylvain told him that he should probably wait to do any hand-holding until after he does The Move. He needs to be patient and he needs to play it cool, despite how fast his heart is racing right now.

Deep breaths.

He can smell Hilda’s perfume. It’s sweet, but has a floral undertone to it. The more he breathes it in, the more nervous he gets. Deep breaths were not a very good idea. Caspar decides instead to hold his breath until they get to the ticket booth. This will totally prevent him from doing anything stupid and messing up this date.

"Uh Caspar, are you okay? You seem a little stiff."

Stiff? Is that bad? It must be bad. He can't believe that he's already ruining this!

Caspar releases the air he was holding with a soft puff and shakes his head. "Oh, I'm fine. Never been better!" His voice goes up an octave as he finishes his sentence. He never really was good at lying, but hopefully Hilda won’t notice.

Hilda now looks at him, her beautiful pink eyes narrowed. His heart skips a beat when they make eye contact, and he immediately looks away. Caspar hides his growing nervousness by rubbing his hand behind his neck and feigning interest in a nearby movie poster. 

He can’t focus on the words, but he sees little animated animals doing various mischievous things around the poster.

Hilda takes interest in the poster as well. “They’re so cute! I really wish my brother weren’t so stubborn...I want to have pets at my house.” 

Caspar has been so focused on not being focused on Hilda and her intoxicating perfume that he did not even realize that she moved closer to him. She is now casually holding on to Caspar’s bicep with one hand and pointing at one of the cute animals on the poster with her other hand.

_Stay calm. Remember what Sylvain taught you._

Caspar can feel his face heating up, but he is determined. He will make sure this date goes well. Now he just needs to respond to Hilda. What did she just say? Something about the animals?

“Oh yeah? What kind of pet would you want to have?”

Hilda uses her free hand to tap her chin thoughtfully. “I dunno, something fluffy and cute that I can dress up.” She then tugs on Caspar’s arm, leading him in the direction of the ticket booth. “Let’s hurry up and get our tickets before the theater gets filled. If we don’t get good seats I’ll be _so_ upset.”

“Yeah, r-right! That wouldn’t be good.”

Caspar buys their tickets, as well as a large bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry flavored slushies (to Hilda’s delight). Normally he would not go anywhere near such sugary drinks, but Hilda was so excited to try them that he couldn’t refuse.

They manage to get the best seats in the theater and settle in nicely. Hilda sits to the right of Caspar and makes him hold the bucket of popcorn.

Once again, Caspar is all-too-aware of how close Hilda is and how nice she smells and how he really can’t mess up this date--

_Relax._

They watch the movie previews, and Caspar supplies his top-notch commentary, which, to his delight, gets Hilda to laugh. Her cute giggle puts him at ease and gives him some much-needed confidence in his dating skills.

Once the movie starts, Caspar and Hilda go silent. Despite his best efforts to relax, Caspar can’t quite focus on the movie. His attention flits between the loud talking coming from a few rows down, the snarky-looking teen to the left of him who is kicking the seat in front of them, and Hilda intermittently reaching over for popcorn.

During a moment where he is distracted by the people who are talking, he absently sticks his hand in the popcorn bucket. He did not realize that Hilda’s hand was already in the bucket, so now his hand is on top of hers. This realization makes Caspar freak out internally. He doesn’t move his hand because he honestly isn’t sure what he should do. Sylvain did not prepare him for this scenario.

Hilda leans in closer to him and whispers, “If you want to hold my hand, you’ll have to wait until we’re done with the popcorn.” She then removes her hand and eats the popcorn she scooped up.

Caspar’s jaw hangs open momentarily as he processes what she says. He blurts out an “okay” that is just a bit louder than is acceptable in a theater, causing a few heads to turn their way. Luckily because the theater is dark, Hilda can’t see how red his face has become.

Eventually, the popcorn bucket is emptied and Caspar is both excited and terrified to hold Hilda’s hand for real. He gets to hold her hand and he didn't even do The Move yet. He must be doing something right! He sets the container down on the floor as gently as he can muster. When he returns to his normal position, Hilda hands him an unused napkin. Confused, he takes it and prepares to throw it in the empty bucket, thinking it is trash. 

Before he could throw the paper, Hilda leans over and whispers to him. “It’s to wipe the butter off your hands, silly. You can’t hold my hand if you’re all greasy. It’d be gross.” 

“Oh.” Without any further hesitation, Caspar wipes any residual popcorn butter off of his hands and then discards the napkin.

Hilda giggles and holds her hand over Caspar’s armrest. Gingerly, Caspar takes her hand into his own. When their wrists settle on the armrest, Hilda lightly squeezes Caspar’s hand, which makes his heart skip a beat.

The movie ends and Hilda and Caspar remain seated, comfortably watching the credits. Caspar doesn't want this moment to end, but eventually the funny post-credits blurb finishes and the screen fades to black. The lights in the theater turn back on, causing Caspar to squint as his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness.

“Well, guess we better head out then, huh?” Caspar looks at Hilda, who starts giggling when she returns his gaze.

Confused, Caspar looks around the room. It appears that everyone else has left, so that means she must be laughing at him! Caspar’s face turns bright red with embarrassment when he realizes this. Without thinking, he lets go of Hilda’s hand so he could haphazardly run his hands through his hair.

“What’s the matter? Is there something in my hair? On my face?”

While Caspar freaks out over ruining this date, Hilda angles herself in her chair so that she is now fully facing Caspar.

“Relax, it’s nothing bad. You’ve been so tense all night. I have noodly arms so if you end up passing out I’m just going to leave you here.”

“Hey, I’m not going to pass out!” Caspar huffs. He looks down sheepishly. “I just...didn’t want to ruin today.”

He is totally acting lame right now and breaking all of the rules that Sylvain has told him, but he has to stop hiding his feelings and be honest. It has been torturous trying to act cool and collected all this time.

“I was just laughing because your lips are blue and I thought it was cute. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She thinks...his lips are cute? How can lips be cute? Why are his lips blue anyway? A million thoughts run through Caspar’s head, but he feels an overwhelming sense of relief. He flashes a brilliant smile at Hilda, despite the deep flush painting his cheeks.

They maintain eye contact for a few moments while Caspar’s thoughts still run wild. Hilda finally gets impatient and leans forward. Their kiss is chaste, but sweet. The faint taste of blue raspberry and salted popcorn lingers on their lips.

“Oh,” Caspar whispers before leaning forward to meet Hilda in another kiss. He brings a hand up to cup her cheek gently.

Eventually, an unamused theater worker comes in and shoos the couple out of the theater. Caspar and Hilda leave, breathless and giggling. They walk hand-in-hand around the bustling streets of Derdriu looking at random shops until they grow tired.

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Remire Townhouses // 7:39:27 **

"--speculation has been sparked online in light of the recent crest stone thefts occurring across Fódlan. Posts have been appearing detailing theories on the political shifts that will occur across the nation as a result of the loss of the stones. The current focus is on the Leicester Borough, which has just lost its major ruling crest stone. The consensus among these theories is that the Gloucester family will become the most powerful in the Leicester Borough--and possibly all of Fódlan. Gloucester has become a popular hashtag across social media as a result of these theories.”

Felix and his roommates sit in complete silence at the dining room table with their breakfast as the television in the next room announces the latest development in the crest stone mystery.

Bylad is on his third plate of eggs and bacon, which Felix finds morbidly intriguing. How the man could consume so much food and still manage to stay so fit is beyond his comprehension. He has spent the past few weeks training under the twins, which has pushed his physical limits. Bylad has superhuman endurance and a surprising level of strength and agility that can overpower even Dedue. Byleth is also terrifyingly strong and adept at creating spur-of-the-moment strategies. Felix has noticed that Bylad relies on intuition, where Byleth relies on intellect.

"The Seiros Police Force has already released an official statement regarding these posts. Stay tuned for our interview later this morning with Chief of Police Catherine Charon. Now for today’s weather report--”

Byleth gets up and mutes the TV. When she returns to the table, she looks at her roommates expectantly. “We should prepare to take action. I am sure that these criminals are going to target another crest stone very soon.”

Felix can't wait to face these criminals. They have taken so much away from him. From Dimitri. From the Eisner twins and Dedue.

The fierce look in Byleth's eyes now is the same as when she told Felix a few weeks ago why she and her brother joined forces with Dimitri and Dedue.

The twins are clearly adept at espionage and self-defense. Through their work they confirmed that these criminals played a role in the sudden disappearance of their father, Jeralt. This confirmation led them to suspect that other terrible events that have happened across the country, specifically the Blaiddyd-Duscur Tragedy, were also related to these mysterious people. Following this train of thought, they happened upon a rumor of someone who looked like the deceased son of the Blaiddyd family. When the twins tracked down Dimitri and Dedue, they immediately clicked. Apparently they had helped Dimitri through a very dark time, which Felix does not want to press for details. Now here they all are, working towards unmasking these criminals and delivering justice.

Byleth continues. “The Gloucester Crest Stone will most likely be their next target. I suspect that all of this attention on social media is creating the perfect storm for them to execute a bold move.”

While Byleth stops to take a sip of her orange juice, Bylad picks up her train of thought. “They obviously have something against current politics and the Church of Seiros, so what better way to make a statement than to capture the most influential crest stones right from under everyone’s noses.”

“Ah, I understand your logic. When do you think they would act?” Dimitri looks thoughtfully at the twins.

"I don't know," the twins say at the same time. That freaks Felix out just a little. He tries to focus on Dimitri to forget about how weird the twin telepathy thing is. The oaf sitting next to him is currently struggling to open a jar of raspberry jelly, is very amusing to watch. Felix seriously wonders how Dimitri would ever be able to survive on his own.

Dedue quietly takes the jar from Dimitri, opens it effortlessly, and then returns it. He then speaks. "It seems it would be best for us to stake out the target location indefinitely."

“That would be the most thorough plan of action, but we also need to consider if it is the best way to utilize our resources,” Byleth says before pointedly looking at Felix. "As well as the lack of experience of our newest member."

"He's also one of the reasons why we weren't able to catch them the last time," Bylad deadpans.

Felix glares icily at Bylad, feeling defensive. "Do not underestimate me. I may not be experienced in this line of work, but whatever I do it well. Also, it wasn't _my_ fault these two decided I looked like a high-profile criminal."

Worried by Felix's prickly reaction, Dimitri reaches over and (as gently as he could) squeezes Felix's arm. Felix relaxes marginally, which Dimitri counts as a small victory.

Byleth tries to mediate the conversation. "Your safety is important. These people are unpredictable and dangerous, so we wouldn't want you to end up in a compromising situation."

Felix huffs. Before he can retort, Dimitri speaks up. The way he speaks to the twins is reminiscent to a nervous student presenting an idea to their professor. Felix thinks that comparison fits the dynamic that Dimitri has with the twins well. His thoughts once again focus on Dimitri, causing whatever residual jabs he had in his mind to dissolve.

"Pardon me if this is out of line, but perhaps we can steal the stone and lure them to us instead? That way we won't have to worry about being split up when we confront these dastards."

The twins fall silent for a moment, contemplating Dimitri’s proposition.

After another moment, Byleth smiles. Her eyes glimmer with pride at her mentee’s tactful thinking. “That is a brilliant idea, Dimitri.”

Dimitri blushes and nervously wrings his hands upon hearing Byleth’s praise. Something in Felix’s chest tightens upon seeing Dimitri respond this way. He presses his lips into a tight line and opts to glare daggers at Dedue’s empty plate on the table.

“It will require pristine execution,” Bylad says matter-of-factly. “We will need to be very deliberate in how we lure them, but careful enough that we don’t attract the attention of the police. We can't keep relying on just deleting surveillance footage.”

“I’ll come up with a bulletproof strategy,” Byleth says confidently. “In the meantime, you all should get some training in.”

####  **29th day of the Harpstring Moon, 2085 // Golden Deer Hideout // 19:41:47 **

Today has been a lot busier than Claude could have ever anticipated, which seems to be the new norm in his life. 

The pictures that Linhardt brought unquestionably foreshadow some sort of ominous event. This discovery places a very concrete deadline on the Golden Deer’s ultimate mission, which is why he and Linhardt spent the entire day poring over data.

The first objective was to run a background check on Ferdinand von Aegir, his father, and Aegir Enterprises. On paper, everyone seems fine. However, Claude’s intuition is telling him that there is something more to the von Aegirs than meets the eye. He recalls coming across the name earlier this month, so he is going to have to dig through the piles of information that he has gathered.

Most of the day, however, had been spent trying to locate this mysterious building on the blueprint. While Linhardt worked on further translating pages of the Creator's Compendium, Claude and Gatekeeper sifted through pages upon pages of real estate archives online. Unfortunately, the church does not keep any digital records of their history, so the Golden Deer may have to dig for physical information.

Linhardt seems to trust this Ferdinand person very deeply. However, Claude now has to decide if he can trust Linhardt--whom he has only just recently met as well--to judge this person.

The burden on Claude's shoulders feels much heavier now. He needs to decide if the Golden Deer should use this Ferdinand person as a resource and let him into their operation, or to merely observe him closely from the outside. There are clear pros and cons to both scenarios, but ultimately Claude will have to bring it up with the group and decide democratically what action they will take.

Caspar left for his date not too long ago, so Sylvain decides to pay Claude and Linhardt a visit. Knowing they probably have been working non-stop all day, he has also brought a generous amount of takeout for them all to share.

"Sherlock, Casanova has just arrived. I am letting him in."

"Thanks, Gatekeeper,” Claude says while stifling a yawn. He finally looks at the time, and groans when he realizes how late it has gotten.

Sylvain finds Claude and Linhardt in the Gatekeeper room, bleary-eyed and solemnly working on their respective tasks. Claude is seated at Gatekeeper, finishing what appears to be his fourth energy drink. Linhardt is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by several small books, papers with practically-incoherent scribbles, and, of course, the Creator’s Compendium.

“Hope you two weren’t having too much fun without me,” he says with a playful wink as he walks further into the room. “I brought food for you two hard workers. Why don’t we go to the roundtable room and eat, then you can let me know what has been happening.”

Linhardt slowly gets up and looks at Sylvain thoughtfully. “Wow, I would have thought that someone like you would be out partying by now.” Linhardt’s tone definitely has some underlying snark.

Sylvain brushes off Linhardt’s snide remark, returning it with a charming smile. “Dude, the party follows me. Not the other way around.” 

To emphasize his point, he wiggles his body suggestively. 

Claude laughs, Linhardt grumbles.

The three make their way to the roundtable room, where they eat and discuss the most recent updates in their crest stone mission.

Claude brings his (now functioning) tablet to the roundtable as well, to provide Sylvain with visual demonstrations of the work they have done.

"I now have Gatekeeper keeping a close eye on Aegir Enterprises and those who are closely involved with the company. That includes the son of the current CEO, Ferdinand."

"He's around our age, right?" Sylvain asks after taking a sip of his soda.

Linhardt nods. "Yes, he was my college roommate. I know what you two are probably thinking, and it is completely justified given the circumstances, but I do not believe that Ferdinand has any bad intentions."

Linhardt really can't believe that he is actually sticking up for Ferdinand right now. This entire ordeal has been quite tiresome.

Claude nods, acknowledging Linhardt's efforts to protect his friend. "We definitely have a lot to think about now. Perhaps we can try to get more information out of Ferdinand indirectly."

Claude pulls up Ferdinand's social media page on his tablet and angles the device so that Sylvain and Linhardt could both see the screen. His page seems plain enough. Ferdinand's profile picture is painfully professional, as well as the rest of his posts.

As they navigate through his profile, Claude finds posts that Ferdinand was tagged in. There are quite a few photos of him with a blonde-haired girl.

"Looks like he has a girlfriend," Claude says idly.

Sylvain's jaw drops.

"Ingrid."

Linhardt and Claude both focus on Sylvain's shocked expression. 

They both respond at the same time. "You know her?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! sorry updates have not been very regular. it will most likely stay that way, especially with the holidays coming up.
> 
> also, I may or may not have listened to the undertale soundtrack (specifically dating start!) when writing the casphild scene. caspar and papyrus have the same energy and I needed to get it out of my system.
> 
> I also want to mention that real action will be happening soon!! I wanted to include some more "support scenes" in this, as well as set up some plot/bg a bit more. don't forget about cheerleader claude either, because that will be coming soon to a theater near you ;)
> 
> SO!! thank you for reading this far!💖 I am sending all of my love to you for supporting me and my ideas!
> 
> (watch me descend further into raihan madness on twitter @rosesandthorons)


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